


Izuku, The Faerie Hero

by Chronomancer



Category: Faerie Folklore, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fae, BAMF Midoriya Izuku, Chatting & Messaging, Fae & Fairies, Fae Magic, Irish Language, Izuku has magic, Magic!Izuku, Midoriya Izuku is a Ray of Sunshine, Moral Ambiguity, Multi, POV Alternating, Prologue, Psychological Horror, Quirk Discrimination (My Hero Academia), SPOILERS IN THE COMMENTS, You Have Been Warned, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2020-10-04 14:54:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 26,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20472884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chronomancer/pseuds/Chronomancer
Summary: There is a Faerie Court in Japan, full of magic and gleaming wonder. They aid police with their ability to glean the truth, finding abandoned and abused children. They rub elbows with heroes and vigilantes, assisting in busting drug rings and healing the wounded. Well-liked and respected by all but a few, who glimpsed the designs the Queen weaves and shivered in fear.It all changes when Izuku tells his mother, a Queen of Faerie, that he too wishes to be a hero.Isadora will do whatever it takes for her son to become the first Faerie Hero in this Human realm, no matter the cost.Chaos is the ruling force of the Universe. Adapt or die.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Here we go, everyone.  
Not beta- read, let me know if you'd like to be one or spot any errors!  
This AU has been in my head percolating for MONTHS I had to get it OUT.  
I plan to have Izuku in the story by chapter 3/4, please be patient if you like it.

Fifty years after the Golden Child is born and forty five after Quirks are confirmed. Thirty-five years after the acceptance of Quirks and fifteen years after the Hero System has been established, we begin.

The High Fae had met to discuss this Opportunity. They had watched, passive as immortals are. These humans had random, strange powers that mimicked Fae abilities. There was a threat if one day they could waltz into Faerie and bypass the safeguards, Faerie glamour and secondary insanity. What then? The Fae while ever-lasting and powerful, knew it was only going to be a matter of time. Their own could not reproduce as humans could- they did not wage cataclysmic war as Faerie did.

Of the Seven Archfey to decide what Faerie would do about it- ranging from absolutely nothing to outright War- the final Archfey to choose cleared her throat. As the other six settled down in iridescent gowns and suits made of nightmares, they waited for the old Goddess of Dreams to offer her advice. 

Isadora, Archfey and Queen of the Hidden Court had smiled, d̸a̷r̶k̷ ̵a̷n̶d̸ ̵s̴h̸i̶m̶m̷e̸r̷i̸n̵g̶ crown catching the faerie-lights floating above them. There, she proposed a middle ground.

Introduction and integration, she advised. Go into their world, to downplay the threat of Faerie. Show them the Seelie Court, show them the face of helpfulness, or charity, of goodness. The humans seldom learn that blood is the same on both gold and coal. They know not of cold iron and the rules they played by. A chance to spin a web, to inflict the presence of Faerie indiscriminately. As Faerie presence expands, it consumes. A Fae-touched human was better than one who wasn't, after all. 

The Archfey acquiesced.

-

Step One.

Isadora spirits away twenty of her Court to Japan, and divides the other forty between England and Argentina. With strict instructions to integrate, they wave goodbye to her.

Convincing the Emperor had been a fascinating experience. Isadora sends herself on a breeze, invisibly floating past the primary guards to land in a decorated courtyard. She waits for a moment, admiring the koi pond as the sounds of metal come closer to her. A man flickers into her field of vision, moving fast with a hand stretched out and glowing white. Before the human can procure the supernova light he has, Isadora sends his mind to a pavilion made of sunsets his mi̴̧nd͟͡ c̴̛o̸̢ų̷͞l̶̢d̕͟͜ n̡ơt ҉͞n͜a̕͜m̸e͘͟ t̡h͏̷e ̶c̛ ̶̛o̡͜ ̷͝l̢ ͏̶̕o͝ r̶̡ ş̷ of. A moment to observe the man foaming at the mouth in delirium, she picks the small flower tucked into his uniforms’ lapel. The courtyard is tense as she shakes a finger at the second line of defense. A woman with clay-red skin steps out from the line, silently leading her to a modest study. 

Boring, too easy to convince a scared Emperor to accept her offer. Instructing the Court Healer to tend to his ill wife, another Fae to grant a fertility rite for his son in exchange a decent slot of land in Mustafu. Humanity hadn't changed much, in her opinion. To have the Emperor's name in her ledger, to listen to a lonely man ramble about the security her people could bring to the area. Heroes to watch with smiles and others to observe with hooded eyes, villain networks and drug rings she was given full blessing to meddle with. A peer around the Emperor's personal library, not entirely in her pocket but drinking her words all the same.

"Do not worry so, young man. We will lift our magic for your people, your heroes. We've had-" Isadora's laugh was of tinkling bells and warm honey, "-centuries of experience with Heroism and Villainy. All will be well, Emperor. Just watch, and wait. How do you wish to officiate this?"

It will be many decades later until the Game is set, stacked high in Isadora's favor.

It will be many more years until the fruit is sweet enough to e͇͈͟a̷̶̰̭t̴̘͙̲̱͎͎ .

-

A Court, a demesne, a Faerie home takes time to shape. Plants from Faerie are transplanted into the garden, vines that can attack the malevolent twine around the pillars of the building. Sunken pools for the Selkies, Sirens, Mer, arched ceilings for those gifted with wings. A raised circle, for three throne chairs. Queen, Consort, and Heir. Only one will be sat in for now.

There is magic pressed into every crevice and corner; rooms changing locations, sentient shadows in dim hallways. Brownies kept the house immaculate but could never be seen cleaning. The Court will stand two stories for those with Mortal eyes, dozens more for Fae. The untrained eye will only see a small mansion, gleaming shrubbery just a hint too lush for the city, towering trees blocking the view from the back garden.

They will not see balconies made of paper-thin glass and iridescent pillars, the cobblestone driveway will not murmur to them as they walk across it. The media will never experience the rose bushes greeting them as they enter the house. The Backyard- Isadora's favorite project- will become tethered to Faerie, shimmering magic on the boughs of a weeping willow. Naiads and Drayds will find the comforts of a hedge maze, faerie-fruit trees shall provide nourishment for those in contemplation. It will become a home for all those with the slightest bit of magic in them, a soft place to rest an immortal head, a break from humanity's sprawling cities. 

Perhaps a fae-touched child will see a smiling face at the window by the door, a peek into the bushes may reveal a tea set with sweets laid out on it. For these children, all is free without ulterior motive.

Weeks later and she walks the city, eyeing the names of heros on shirts and juice boxes. Soleli, a hero Isadora was aware of, patrolled these streets. Isadora filers glamour over her, reducing her presence to a youthful woman with green hair. She still catches stares, winking at a young business man. To be beautiful enough to cause such a reaction, though. It’s quite charming.

A few turns around the city and Isadora spots a young child being picked on. Grade school uniform dirtied, what she assumes is the child’s backpack is open and dumped over the child. Two other children jeer and point with ugly laughter pouring out of them. The bullies seem normal, though one has a gray tinge to their skin. A Quirked child! Intrigued and therefore invested, Isadora stalks over to them, face carefully neutral.

“-like you! I heard your momma left when you got your quirk! You’re just a-” She clears her throat, both bullies startling. The child on the ground is covering their face, eyes clenched tight and still crying. Isadora looks to the standing children, face now set in disapproval and demanding silence.

“What, exactly, is going on? No,-” She tapped her foot at the taller bully looking to run. “-you stay here and answer me. Why are you hurting this child?” She hears the child on the ground make a noise of confusion as she glared at the two. Both are male, she recognizes. The bigger, gray skinned one looks furious someone’s stepped in, but the younger eyes the ground with guilt. Good. The first idea is that either this child has an uncommon quirk, perhaps the kid’s family? Isadora taps her foot again at the leader and lifts an eyebrow.

The boy gives in.

“She’s got a villians quirk. She can’t be a hero with it, and that's all she talks about! She's just a future villain!” The bigger one spits out, she watches the gray intensify around the bully’s hands, creating almost a shine to them. The boy elbows his friend and jerks his head to Isadora.

“Her quirk makes people feel whatever she wants.” He mumbled, shifting away from the three. The child-she, apparently- slowly starts to get up, and out of the corner of her eye Isadora sees the girl trembling. 

Isadora scoffs at the two before turning and offering her hand to the girl. She only stares at Isadora in awe, seemingly unable to decide where to look. Isadora smiles when the girl takes it, pulling herself up and cottoning to the Fae’s side, hiding her face in Isadora’s pants.

“So you’re angry she has a better shot at being a hero than you two do.” Is what she decides to say- they are young kids, after all. “You probably say some villian on TV with a similar quirk, didn’t you? She could make someone calm down, or feel safe, or happy or sleepy and you decided that’s villainous?” She rolls her eyes, hand patting the little girl’s head. “The only people aren’t being heroic are you both.” She looks at the lackey, ”You know better. Why didn’t you stop this kid from bullying her?” The boys’ head twitch at that word. As they should. “Run along, and you better think about how people see  _ your _ actions.”

They scamper off, though the lackey looks back at them with an unreadable look. 

Isadora knelt down before the girl and grins. “Don’t worry about babies like that. You ok?” She tries to brush the dirt off the girl’s side for it to smudge. That’s alright, she has an idea.

-

Hana Kyoko has no idea what to think right now! Keiki and Aiko were bullying her and no one cared- and she  _ knew _ it would get worse if she used her quirk! Sensei was always trying to get her expelled ‘cause she ‘complained too much’ and her parents hated it when Sensei talked to them!

But-but then this really pretty woman came over  _ and told them she could be a hero. _ Told them off! Her bullies ran off! The lady smells like the  _ best _ thing  _ ever _ , between the campfire her grandpa had at his house that one time and her stuffed animal’s detergent and-and now- _ waitreallyprettylady  _ with  _ really pretty _ eyes was asking her something!

“Your uniform? Little one, can I clean your uniform?” The lady has her brows tight as she looks at her uniform.

Kyoko’s confused but ‘clean your uniform’- was it this lady’s quirk?

“Something like that.” The lady laughs softly. Oh dang it, she did it again! The lady smiled, brushing a lock of hair-green like jade!- behind her ear. Kyoko could only nod shakily, still sore after hitting the ground. The lady tutted about boys being boys  _ everywhere _ , waving a hand slowly over the dirt.

The dirt pulled itself off. Just like that. Kyoko looked at her skirt to see the same thing- like it was flying away from her clothes! This lady’s quirk was awesome! Could she do this with bigger things? Was it dirt or just small things like dirt? Could pretty lady make someone’s uniform dirty like that as well? Elemental quirks were still pretty weak generally but she saw this show where doctors were saying quirks were only going to get stronger but wow wow wow  _ wow wow- _

“It’s magic!” the lady laughed, patting her on the head. Her eyes looked a little different now, they were still green but now they had gold in them! Kyoko couldn’t put a finger on it, but this lady looks- looks almost weird. Like the colors are wrong. Green lady would look better with blues and purples and maybe some more gold! That’s okay though, lady was super nice! “It’s a special thing my family does. Almost like a quirk, honestly. Now, I’m just a stranger but you can call me Isadora! Now, did you want help finding a way home or…”

-

Hana Kyoko will go home safely, a phone number scrawled on a piece of paper. Kyoko will see the lady known as Isadora occasionally, and she’ll run up the pretty lady and talk about anything and everything. There are little cakes Isadora gives her sometimes and they taste h̛e̢a͠v̛e̡nly̴. Kyoko will struggle with bullies for only a few more weeks before her teacher gets fired and a  _ much _ nicer one comes in. 

Kyoko’s quirk will get stronger as the years go on, catching the eye of a hero school recruiter. On the bad days where is father stares gloomily at a photo of his daughters’ mother, he’ll wonder why she looks so different from the both of them. He’ll compare yearly pictures with a phrase on the tip of his tongue, only to be distracted and forget what he’s thinking. Kyoko’s eyes will begin to see things they could not before, and lying these days leaves her with headaches. Must be from her quirk, who hasn’t heard of a weirder drawback? She keeps in contact with Isadora weekly, graduated from tea shops to cat cafes and brunches. 

There’s something that remains mysterious about her, whether it’s how the woman looks the same over the years or maybe something else. It doesn’t matter, Isadora gives the best advice and even better hugs and it’s  _ nice  _ to get doted on, okay? Isadora has people with her every now and then and they’re just as kind, just as mysterious and breath-takingly gorgeous. When Kyoko makes it into Hero school, she steps out the door the next day to find an ornate box with her name on it, a jade-colored ribbon in a bow sitting on top. She’ll almost knock over her father in childish impatience to rip it open.

Inside this box she’ll find carefully packaged homemade treats and a rough sketch of what her hero costume could look like. Tips on what she should focus on in studies, which websites are legitimate for citing in future papers. Recommendations for martial art studios, and an open invitation to visit them at their home.

Isadora is the  _ best! _

-

_ Kyoko, _

_ I heard you’re about to set off to become a hero! We’re all so proud of you! Rhys and I made a bet how much you’d crush the competition, but I won’t tell you who won. (Rhys won, but only because he cheated) _

_ Yes, you’re welcome to swing by our home anytime you want to! I cannot guarantee I will be home when you’re over, but everyone here at home is rooting for you and appreciates your company. The costume idea is something we all sat down and thought of, though you are not required by any means to use it. You could show it to the Support department for a second opinion. _

_ A word of advice from us. Always remember why you want to be a hero. It truly isn’t about rankings or publicity-but saving people. You said I saved you, when we first met.(it’s been so long, sweet Goddess above) Become the type of person that would step in if she saw bullying, if she saw something unjust happening before her very eyes. This world isn’t kind to the strange and new right now, and it will take many more people with the right mindset to change it for the better. You can do it. You can lead, take charge of your peers. SHow them why the world you want  _ _ can _ _ be a reality. Make your Dream your reality.  _

_ With love and best regards, _

Isadora and Rhys


	2. W̧̱͙̰̘̱̝a̺͙L̠̥k ̨̲̠I̼͔̖ṇ͔̜͝T̙̘̖̥̣͇̟͘o͙̹̥̜̺̥͡ ̱̖͇̜̰M̱͜y̼̰͢ ̳̫̳̲P̴̠͖̬a̠͚̲͡Ṟ̞̯̙̜͓ͅl͍̟̻̯o͈̘̥R̜̼̥̙

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the worst chapter for formatting???? Im so Sorry? Anyone else hate interlude chapters? Gotta set up the stage, I suppose.  
As usual, no Beta. Let me know if you want to change that.  
Thanks for the response so far, everyone!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feat:  
Trolling humans,  
'it's not click bait!'  
No one likes the trippy dream sequence  
The Time Skip(TM),  
Making New Friends!

Isadora falls often and hard to boredom. Faerie becomes stagnant after a few centuries of galas and court-sanctioned assassinations- _ though it really wasn’t a party if someone didn’t die, after all. _ This, though? Sitting in the local police precinct in an uncomfortable chair, staring down the Chief of Police with a grin so wide it cracks her glamour. _ Peak _ entertainment. If she Weaves him, if she can just catch his ** _eye_ ** , this is their foot in the door. Her Court needs to have influence over the police, or at least friendly relations with them. It may not be of use _ now, _ but thirty, forty years down the road?

The man in front of her looks like every noir film she’s laid eyes on; sunken eyes and five o’clock shadow, rank cigarette stains on his fingernails and the beginning of a liver problem by the light yellow in his sclera. Yet she’s heard nothing but glowing accolades about his term. She feels like snickering at the attention she’s gathered, catching a blushing clerk’s eye as she skitters past her bosses’ desk.

“You want to take on our missing persons’ workload.” Hiroki says dubiously, searching the name ‘Isadora’ in his office’s database. “Why?”

Why does he _ barely _ have the clearance to look at her file?

“Us Fae have a unique range of abilities, of course!” The woman in front of him giggles, idly fiddling with the puzzle toy on his desk. Something about the woman-_ Faerie, according to the file. Threat level classified, what the- _ leaves him unsettled as he observes her green hair shift in the light. Hiroki continues to stare at her- weren’t her eyes also green a second ago? 

“And?” He shrugs, playing oblivious. “We have heroes on that case. Why not leave the police and heroes to, you know, _ do their job _ ?” Hiroki watches the smile freeze on her lips - _ gotcha _\- before it stretches out even wider, showing strangely sharp incisors.

_ Threat level classified. Quirk: Unknown. _

Isadora shifts back with a sigh, tapping the armrests of the chair with an unreadable cast to her face. A pause, maybe working up a rebuttal? He waits for her to give the common response; ‘_ I want to be a hero too!’ _ or ‘ _ But they work so hard already!’_, though it could be a _ ‘Its a citizens job to help when I can!’ _

“Pro Heroes Soleli and Wicker have enough on their plates with day-time heroism, especially if Wicker wants to hit top 50 by next month’s end. Underground Hero Bengal is working themselves into frustration trying to bust that gun smuggling case, right? Aren’t they undercover? Too risky.” Isadora tilts her head too far to the side, sending a sudden chill down his spine. His eyes flick to his computer screen. _ Moral Alignment: Unknown. _She leans forward, sliding her arm onto the table inches away from his. 

“Your precinct is underfunded, understaffed, and overworked. You’re a decent man, giving your underlings overtime and holidays off. I’ve only heard good things about you and isn’t that just _ sweet? _ I know you’re worried about Sato- you’re right, he _ does _ look ill, though that’s probably due to his new percocet addiction. Sato’s never been the healthiest, after all. It’s so _ easy _ to abuse prescription drugs. What I am offering is certainly invaluable. Purely on a volunteer basis, you understand. You could refuse the help of my people, of course. If you _ accepted_, however-” 

Hiroki finds himself stuck in the pull of her odd gaze, gold shifting to amber and back. The edges of his sight haze over, ears perked to the faintest sounds of a flute. _ Eclipse _ , the word shifting up from his subconscious. He can’t move away from the word, feeling as if there’s something he’s forgetting. _ Eclipse, eclipse, eclipse, what happens during an eclipse, what happens when if he keeps looking- _

“-maybe they would start calling you a ‘hero’. Is that not what you want? Am I wrong, Hiroki? It’d be nice to be called a hero, I'm sure. I don’t blame you. You already _ are _ a hero, _ Hiroki! _ We could help you save _ more _ people! Let us help you! Don’t you want this? All you’re asking for is simple recognition, let us help you, ** _Hiroki_ **. Yes?”

** _S̴̨͞ ̸̴͜͡ ̡͢A̛̕͏ ̷͜͠y̢͘͘͠ ̸͢͡͞ ̷͜ ̢Y̶̶͡e̸̵̡ ͢͡ ҉̡ş̨̨͝_ **

“Yes.”

“You are a smart human! _ Rare your kind is, these days. _I’ll be back later with my friends, okay? Mwah! Thanks, Tsuna!”

\-------

Rhys, Danu bless his soul, took to technology with a strange fascination. His room slowly became a beacon of white background light, rainbow wires and monitors spanning the walls. Black start-up screens and flashing red icons. The gentle whir of fans running, the faintest smell of heated plastic. Uncaring to Isadora’s concerned look as he drags _ another _ monitor inside, Rhys snickers as he begins to piece together his plan.

One of the downsides of Faerie withdrawing from the mortal plane was that their mythos suffered. Sure, a few tales survived, but some hour-long animation about a fairy godmother saving the day was trite to what it used to be. Jack Frost became a one-line joke, and he kept having to _ patiently _ explain to government officials it was ‘Faerie, not fairy. That’s a slur, mind your manners.’

The small boom of witchcraft in the early 21st century had been Goddess-sent. While the majority of Witches knew better than to deal with them, they were _ acknowledged._ There was always one or two young folk who’d shyly given him a loaf of bread, and there was a small bakery that always greeted his Court with a smile and a glass of fresh milk. But it wasn’t enough. The Hidden Court wasn’t the legendary Seelie court, it wasn’t mentioned in prose. The Hidden Court was the collection of powerhouses and cryptids of Faerie, those who kept the peace between the other Courts. They were the ones who _ finished _ wars, not ones who started them. Maeve and Oberon had all the gory glory and while that was good for _ Faerie _ itself, it left quite the slack on the other five Courts.

With Isadora as Queen they _ had _ to deliver. 

So that’s what brings him to this particular plan. It couldn’t truly be called a con because it was a _ Promise _ of sorts. It would take a few years to gain traction, perhaps even a decade- but that’s what made it such a good plan. So few humans would pay attention, so few would be able to draw the parallel. Twenty, thirty years down the line, it would pay off dividends. It would ingrain them further as _ protectors _ . It would curb their craving for violence. The common man and woman would look at this violence and _ applaud _ them.

For Rhys, it would also make him look creative in his Queen’s eyes. He _ needed _ to be promoted within the Court. He’d seen Isadora’s War Room. While utterly terrifying and deliciously _ ruthless _ her plans were, his Queen needs to be the face of beauty, grace, and kindness. Rhys would gladly be one of the many dark shadows behind her back, dealing with annoyances and cutting down fools.

The plan was to sow a few seeds across the internet. The whisper of a Faerie Monarch’s name was to call them to you. Not something you’d do if they was your enemy, and not something to do lightly. 

Perhaps you would, though. Perhaps if you were young and scared of your abusive husband. If you were being mugged in the wrong part of town. If you were a 7 year-old with a black eye, staring at your mother’s enraged face, wondering when she stopped loving you. If you were starving, gutted in an alley and left to rot. If disease had taken your vitality away, stripped your flesh of it’s glow.

Maybe if you whispered her name, trembling in the bathroom or under your covers, praying _ desperately _ for someone to notice something is _ wrong _. In the alley of the poor district, paranoia in your nerves as you flinch from blue and red lights.

Before Isadora had become the Goddess of Dreams, she’d been something gentler. 

Isadora had been one of the _ Guardians of Youth. _

What better way, then to whisper this little truth to the worlds’ greatest web?

Kyoko had heard his plan a few weeks ago and agreed, sharing cookies on one of the balconies. She’d mentioned that children turn to the internet to find answers these days, how her friends talked about their online friends. That online friends could be so _ important. _ There is a loneliness that hides itself well but Rhys knows. How can he not? Estranged family, friends he _has_ died for. He'd do it again in half a heartbeat. 

_ “When you’re in a tough spot, you don’t care where that help comes from. You know Mom left a few years ago, right? My dad’s search history got weird. Like, weird enough I almost called Isa’ to get me out of there. Private investigators, hackers, gym memberships, online therapists…the works. If you want to help the disenfranchised when they think no one can, here’s a few websites I remember being popular…” _

\------

Being the Goddess of Dreams has a few downsides. To start, only a few Faerie can safely enter the Realm of Dreams, where most who hold the power of Dreaming go when they sleep. Great for planning, a headache for sharing information. Usually it drove anyone else insane. Useless, unless you needed to torture some poor soul. Also-

Every Dream she has is inherently prophetic. Doesn’t mean it makes a lick of sense, though. Sure, she might get a lucky visit from her deceased friends,

_ But being visited by the Mother Goddess Danu wasn’t exactly on the agenda. Shit, gotta look fancy! Tea? Does the Goddess of Faerie want fucking TEA? Ambrosia? Apples? Ho-ly sh- _

Danu appears like a hypnic jerk, holding a faceless baby in her arms. After the metaphorical dust settles over the dream scenery, Isadora goes green with envy at the sight, pale smoke falling from her fingers as they twitch. Infertile as she is from countless curses thrown in battle, she wants one so _ badly _ . She would destroy the world for one of her own, pulverize the mantle of this planet if her child asked it of her. _ Centuries _ of pining for one, pleading healers for a chance. Trysting with fertility deities, going so far as to turn to the mortal plane for help. Blood magic soaked in moonlight, chanting to UnSeelie gods, bidding her soul for the _ possibility _. It’s the only thing in this shitty, never-ending realm she craves beyond words. And the Patron of Faerie holds one in her arms, Danu’s ever-shifting face somehow smiling at her. 

“ **N̛̺̦̦̠̥̱͉͜** ** _o̷҉̮̤̭̺_ ** _ t͍̪͉͎͓̩͉͉͘͞ ̳̫͖̩n̡̛̘̹̳̲̗͎̪͠ o̸͕̰͕̟̫̻̭̦ _ w̧̲̝̟̝,̦̦̼͍͡ ̫͕̰̥̬̙m̛̬̰̬̣̲ ** _y̛̖̹͖ ͔͔̗̰̯̫̠̕ͅd̰͚̫a̴̲͍̰̗͎͙_ ** u̴͉͓͖̲͜g̢͉̺h̡̨̩͚̫̮͇t̵͠҉̻̹e̼̲͔̲̠͓̜͘͠ ** _r͕͘.̧̞͈̼͈̼_ ** ̸̯͚͚̖͖̞͇̮W̶̻̱̥͡ **ą̗͖̮̥ i̴҉͉̰͇͚͔̘ t͉͉͙̼̮̥͘ͅ ̦̳̠̠̯a̶̳͇͈̲̰ ̡̖͚͔̙̱̗̻̼b̛̠̠̟͝** ** _i̶̱̞͉̺ț̢̨̛̩͎̪ _ ** _ ̸͠҉̪͓l̢̘̭o̸̬n̩̣͚̤ _ g̨͓̠̠͠e͙̹̖̮̮͎͙̦ŗ̛͎,̗̹̥̞̹ͅ ** ̠͈͟a͘҉̖̩ͅ** ņ̤̪̠̫ _ d̛͎̲̬͉̦͢ ̡̫̘͖͉͎̪I̠̟̟ ̛̛̱͇͙̫̙̲͖̠w̵̮͞i̹l͙͙̱̯̩͈̪l̢̹̫̺͕̭͈ ̴͈̬̦͉̥̟͉̗g͏̼̠̼̪̰ _ i͟҉͍̼̱͠v̺͎͞ẹ̼ ̡͍͡͝y̪̠̬͠o͔̗͖͕̠̗ͅ ** _u̵̖̙̼̮ ̭̘͍͍a̸̟̟͇̫̣͘ ̳͎͙ṣ̵̡̞̬̦o͍̘͢͠n̤̯̫̤ͅͅ_ **.̴̭̲̩͕͇”

\-------

What happens in the meantime?

The following seventy-seven years will be _ manic _ for the Court as they await their Prince. A babe promised to their Queen, a most gracious gift to have a child born from the _heart._ It's rare, too rare in this era to move their Mother Goddess into making a miracle child. As they dwindled in number they grew too scared of having a child to protect, to cherish and uphold. Only the finest for the Queen’s son, they whisper as they travel between Faerie and Earth. The media is allowed the barest of whispers of this, having finally found what light to present the Court under. Faerie, they say, will be what shields humanity from themselves. It is good to have some entity over them, they propose to the few heroes allowed to know fully of them, capable of restraining their strongest. It comes after a hero goes turncoat, killing his sidekicks when they uncover his drug ring, the aftermath of a destroyed neighborhood and a grim body count. Isadora’s two other factions have similar responses, though England remembers Faerie and it takes some rather restricting contracts to mend that distrust. No country moves to make them heroes yet, content with them acting as peacekeepers and minders. 

Isadora is there when Kyoko -hero name _ Mirror _ \- accepts the spot of Japan’s number 8 hero at twenty-seven. The Court has their own table, clapping and cheering _ loudly, _not minding the glares they’re getting for being so disruptive. Kyoko accepts the placard with reverence, staring at her name embellished on the brass. With a watery smile she laughs, holding it close to her chest and stares at her second family. This strange, wonderful family is the reason she’s here. Kyoko knows they’re the reason she’s even alive.

The villain she had to beat to receive this...and the magic to repair her crushed spine. Waking up in their home to see them as they truly are without glamour. Wonderful, awe-some, magnificent to witness. A tray of Faerie food delivered to her solemnly, they proposed an ultimatum: eat, be healed fully and leave half your humanity behind or leave with what's been done-completely mortal, but accept your shortened career. And hadn't that been too easy of a choice! 

Well, Kyoko’s mostly positive about the experience- even if she’s _ still _ being carded for sake.

The Emperor cordially invites Queen Isadora and General Rhys to his estate, where they meet with the representative of the Hero Commission. The middle-aged man stutters through an apology for not meeting sooner, and lays down a thick contract that would secure the Court’s presence in the Hero industry. They would be labelled as either informants, or what they want to coin as ‘backstage support’. Still denied the title ‘Hero’, but this would give them access to the inner workings of the industry with supervision from a Top 10 hero. Provided they remain ‘unaffiliated’ with any particular agency and ‘hold steadfast in the face of discrimination.’ As time went on they may be allowed specific offers within the Hero Commission Committee, but that remained to be seen.

The HCC wanted them as a _ tool _ , a _ commodity. _ Not as a Court of sneaky powerhouses ready to fight for their loved ones. Not as the Faerie who patrolled the streets in their own way. They didn't want the Court who played with children or told stories on the steps of a home. Isadora knows her Court. She knows what foods to bring when the bad memories pile up and leave them gasping for air. She knows what fears they run and hide from, the facades and poker faces they wear. They just do not _comprehend_ what to be _Fae_truly means, do they? 

Isadora’s Court would only receive access in exchange, every other highlight the human points out is neither promise nor guarantee. So they refuse, magic slipping out in angry sparks and pale blue smoke. Not interesting enough for your audacity, no sir. We shall affiliate ourselves with whomever we want to. How _ rude, _ to attempt to chain us for so little. Shame, shame, we will eat your _heart_ for this _ . _

The Emperor of Japan nods at their refusal, twenty years smarter than he was when he first met Isadora. He calls the contract crude, uninspiring, dismisses the sputtering human. The Emperor is powerful enough with his Guard and Allies, he does not worry about whatever the Commission can do to annoy him. They stay for only a few tangents longer, glamour slipping off in appalled disgust. The Emperor waves away any thought of consequence for them, swearing to remind the HCC they are affiliated with _him_ and not some pubescent _committee._

In thanks, Rhys promises they will send Fae by the estate every now and then, to train key members of the Guard. Nothing particularly elite, but word is spreading those who mingle with the Fae grow...stronger. They look to the hero _ Mirror _, observing she no longer ages accordingly. Resilient past her Quirk, strength like her peers. Where Faerie goes, success follows.

To the visceral relief of the two Fae, the word _ corruption _ has not been said. It’s too early, they’re barely a few decades in. Can’t be found out, can’t be exposed yet, _ hide it hide us hide the blood throw more glamour at them make them c h o k e on it. _

Ahem.

\---

Isadora finds a particular boogeyman on a bitter winter day. Or is found by him, more specifically. Half the Court is out in the city, spread between their beloved police station and a lucky few under-staffed orphanages. Only Isadora and a skeleton crew guard the home. It’s not the first time someone leaves a present on the Courts’ doorstep. It is_ definitely_ the first one they had no explanation for. No subtle overtures from anyone in the Top 50, no recent invitations to a charity event. Even the Emperor is caught up in the holiday mania.

“How curious.” Isadroa murmurs while appraising the sleek black box. It’s about the size of her head, fairly light enough to lob at someone. She squints at the front gate, bringing magic out to ‘taste’ the air. The gentle wash of her magic suffuses the area, a soft mist of rainbow pastels glitter like diamond snow. The stones under her feet have no answer and the vines aren’t descriptive past the mention of a shadow. Not a single damn trace of disturbance otherwise. Like out of thin-

Oh.

Well isn’t _ that _a lovely quirk.

Isadora smiles at the thought, even more interested with what this gift holds- because it _ has _ to be a gift. The wrapping paper is oil slick to the texture, carefully pinched folds of the paper itself. It hasn’t sat out long enough to get dust or pollen on it, and it’s not cold to the touch as it should be with this chilly day.

It would be the height of rudeness to leave such a mysterious gift outside in the cold, after all.

\---

“My Queen. We are here to protect you. Why would you make it all that much harder for us to do our job to you?”

“Rhys. The gift was clearly meant for me. How rude would it be to let someone else open it? It could be _ personal _ in nature! Hush. Let us see what type of gift this is.”

“Two weeks of police schmoozing that it’s another piece of jewelry, your Majesty.”

“Rhys, we have a Deal. This clever delivery, the mystery? Not a single chance it would be mundane. I think I will hope for a heart. Perhaps a finger of the Hero Commissioner?”

_ The sound of a box lid being lifted. _

“It smells metallic, Rhys!”

“I am sure it does, your Majesty. It smells like _ metal. _ I wonder _ why _.”

_ A pause, a feminine chuckle and a light-hearted slap on bare skin. Shifting packaging peanuts give off small squeaks. More shifting, then an abrupt stop. _

“_ Oh. _”

“Oh, indeed. Looks like I win, Rhys!”

“Hm. No hero would do this. Increase the wards on the estate or leave them as-is?”

“As-is. The thorns didn’t get a read on our generous new ally.”

“_ Ally? _”

“I jest, my Soldier. A new acquaintance. Someone who knows the Emperor’s Guard and what was discussed in our meeting with that greasy HCC representative, or someone with a web to the HCC's internal affairs with a high clearance. That is concern we do _ not _ need to investigate." A gag disguised as a cough. "Sweet _ Danu _ mortals look strange post-mortem.”

_ Two voices sound in mild disgust as something wet drips onto the paper from the box. _

“A clean cut, and the meat is still...juicy. Professional. A _ human _ with the power to leave you this gift.” A beat. “My Queen, _please tell me this is not a courting gift._”

“Well. Hm. A courting gift would have a name attached, would it not? But! Is this not off to an _ exciting _start!? Tell the Inner Court and above to convene tonight at moonrise. We have a new person to discuss!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: A BABY!


	3. Izuku and Nedzu enter the plot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sdhfvdkgaig thanks everyone for the kudos and views! It's a work of Love, but college...  
Good news is I have the plot mapped out pretty far, so chapters should start to come out faster.

Isadora wakes from her slumber to a weight on her chest. For a moment she lies there, thinking the weight is only the ache in her soul. When will her son arrive? Too long, it's been _ too long  _ since that fateful dream with Goddess Danu. Seventy years and counting. The nursery is gathering dust, her supplicants are growing despondent. Grace this Court with a child, she silently begs to the ceiling. Give me another reason to live. Give this old Court a breath of life. She’s tired of the looks Rhys gives her, full of trepidation and concern. Priscilla, the Court healer, pulling her in and asking how she’s feeling. Walking amongst the humans who cradle their children and show her pictures.  _ Part of her h a t e s them, flaunting the one thing she cannot have, cannot do, the curse that sits inside of her and denies her children, denies her  _ ** _bloodright_ ** _ \-  _

_ The weight on her chest shifts, gurgling pitifully. Something thumps her sternum, and she finally opens her eyes to look down and- _

_ -and immediately starts to cry, staring with unbelieving eyes at a swaddled infant. Blessed Danu, Goddess of Faerie, blessed be the Goddess, giver of life and the True Divine. Couldn’t be more than a week old, oh sweet Danu above he’s h e r e a t l a s t. _ Ever so slowly, so gingerly, she cradles the baby’s back with her knees, barely touching the baby’s hair with her shaking fingertips. She cooes at the bright green eyes, speckled with faerie dust gold and ringed with darkest emerald. Oh, a tri-colored eye, a  _ Faerie _ Eye.  _ Oh, oh, oh _ , she can hardly breathe. Palest moonlit skin, Cupid’s bow on his lip. 

He looks like her, she can tell already. She gasps softly as she pulls the swaddle from around his ears, reveling in joy the slight tip to them. He has her True nose, the one she hides under the Glamour. Straight with the slightest curve at the tip, the one her mother had. Isadora hopes he gets her freckles- oh, she should probably stop and give him a Name. Something that links to her True Name, something to make people rally under him and fear him. Something profound but not crushing, not like her mother who gave her a name she had to break herself in order to live up to. Give him a Name that he can mold to himself, give him a Name he can create a legacy of. Don’t be your Mother, don’t follow that. _ No. _ You’re old enough to break the cycle _ .  _

** _Yes, that name. Full of hope and love. He shall have the devotion of a Queen and her Court. Rise and grow fat on the honey of support and family. _ **

His name shall be  **[REDACTED],** Prince of the Hidden Court. Firstborn child of Isadora, Queen of The Hidden Court, Archfey and Dream Eater, who once was The ** [REDACTED].**

To the human world, he shall be known as Izuku. Perfect and divine, from the green shimmer of his hair to his tiny nails. His cries are sweet as summer breeze, gummy smile a balm on her soul.

_ “My little  _ ** _Izuku_ ** _ ” _ She murmured,  _ “I’ve been waiting centuries for you, sweetheart. And now you’re home at last.” _ Isadora carefully slides to the edge of the bed, with his head resting on her chest.  _ “Do you want the world, little blessing? Will it be glory you seek? Precious jewels? Magic lost to legend? I’ll give you the keys to all those things. Just you wait, little darling.”  _

Izuku gurgles again, eyes glued to his mother. Isadora feels like she’s almost drunk of her happiness, too soon after waking and sent back again to something akin to a fever dream. She wants to shout, to scream, to dance, but that could irritate her child. The curse that sits inside her doesn’t feel heavy anymore, she has a miracle in her arms. A child born of the Heart, what better blessing? What better testament that Danu loves her? What better demonstration that she’s powerful enough to catch her Goddesses's eye?

_ \---------------------------------------- _

Rhys looks over Isadora’s shoulder to stare at the child. It’s been a nightmarish week for the Court after the party was over. The child doesn’t sleep on their schedule yet, but at least Isadora doesn’t seem to mind. A touch of her power and the child is free from restless dreams. Honestly, the child rarely leaves Isadora’s arms. Not that Rhys would ever complain.

Isadora is brimming with happiness, jovial and wise-cracking where she’d begun to wilt. She’s taken the color of her child’s hair and spun it into her own. Gold and green for the mother and child, even the gowns she wears now echo the palate. The Court’s Browines and Trow place fresh ferns and bunches of daffodils in every nook and cranny. Cat s íth chirrup at the baby, peering into the cradle with curious eyes. 

Rhys sighs in contentment, leaning on a kitchen counter. He lets a small smile gather, eyes closed to the dawnlight. Oh, what a grand time Izuku will have.

_ \------------------------------------------ _

Nedzu isn’t sure what’s happening. It’s been a hazy few weeks in the testing facility and all the walls look the same. White, white, white. The scientists keep him in a cage, an IV line in his arm with a cuff around it. It’s too small in the cage to move around.

He doesn’t know his main tormentor’s name. She looks like all the other humans around him. Taller than him, narrow features, sickening smile. She laughs when he cries out in pain. She’d been so happy when he...woke up. Became cognizant, sentient,  _ whatever  _ term they shouted in celebration. 

The cages around him are full of others like him. Animals. But he doesn’t feel like an animal. They’re not awake like him. They still scream, though Oh, they all scream the same. If he gets enough of a reprieve, he imagines these monsters in the cages and them on the outside. Nedzu thinks that it’d be nice to hold the taser to their skin, and listen to their screams for once. What would that sound like? Would they beg like he’s begged? Do they cry like he’s cried? Even better, would they complain of the cramped space? Of the bucket these disgusting people gave him for his feces?

So he waits. They talk about heroes in the area getting close to them, sometimes. Sometimes he wakes up and he knows he’s in a different location by the smell. It starts to happen more often than not, the caged animals around him start to go vanish. Death by experimentation or were they killed to save space? He’s never been so pleased with the discomfort on their faces. His main torturer is crueller to him but for this? Nedzu doesn’t mind. They’re lashing out because they’re scared for once, scared like _ he is _ . Scared like they  _ all are _ . He misses the capybara that was next to his room from the beginning, gentle understanding between them in the few moments they were allowed out for tests. 

Nedzu sits in the small white room in the small white cage, and waits for the heroes. 

_ But it’s not the heroes who eventually come.  _

The door bursts open, crushing one of the assistants in the blink of an eye from his view of the main room. The sunshine pouring out behind the figure reveals nothing but a small crowd. Some of the figures are floating, some are already crawling into the facility on the walls. He presses himself to the bars, manic grin on his face as blood starts to fly. There’s a woman-or a person who looks like a human female with long green hair, who catches the tormentor's face and _ s q u e e z e s,  _ and even from here Nedzu catches the flash of her eyes as the human in her grip goes still.

_ The brain matter that splashes onto the observation window of his room, is perhaps the loveliest thing he’s seen since his sentience began.  _

That’s when he realizes these people are like animals too. They don’t move like the scientists did. He watches one calmly walk after a screaming human, blood dripping from their fingers as purple lights dance around them. The person points a finger towards the human, and the human crumples out of his view. Another is on the ceiling and drops onto a human’s shoulders, biting into their neck and bringing them down. 

The person with the long green hair yells something, and two peel off and start kicking into their cells. He’s about 80% sure there’s fifteen rooms, but he’s 100% sure not all of them are filled.

While these ...people make their way into rooms, he sits and watches the bloodbath. Most of the scientists are dead from his line of sight, crush injuries or bitten. The ringleader meanders without care towards the computers in the corner, bending over to peer at them. He can’t tell if the person is going through the data.

A slight shiver racks his spine. Please, let this not be a power-move. They don’t look like hired muscle, but on the off-chance they’re a third party trying to poach for their own experiments…

\---------------------------------------------

Nedzu comes to slowly. First, he’s aware hes outside. Sitting on something high enough his feet dangle. It’s simply too bright for his eyes to adjust. Then, sounds trickle in. The sound of a siren being turned off. Third, there’s a blanket draped over his shoulders. It smells sweet, but beyond that he can’t compare it to anything.

A lull in conversation, and when he turns his head up he’s met with the green person. Pale, freckled skin. Gold and green eyes, if his mind wasn’t snapping under the pressure. She-they- look neutral. No furrowed brows or exposed teeth, no squinting eyes. Just a head turning to the side a little more than the scientists tended to. They stare at each other for a moment longer before they speak.

“Do you prefer to be called Experiment #627, or Nedzu?”

“...Nedzu.”

“If you wish. I am called Isadora. You are free from those monsters, if you were wondering what that mess was about.”

“You crushed my torturer’s skull with a hand.”

A pause, and Isadora’s mouth purses. Perhaps he shouldn’t have seen that? There’s no anger in their expression though. Nedzu can only grip the blanket tighter as they focus back on him.

“Apologies, I can only imagine you had your own ideas for revenge. Any way I could make it up to you?”

_ Oh, this is what he’s daydreamed about _ . What would he do when he’s freed? Never be captured again, first. He needed a position of power over the humans to ensure that. High Specs had all the potential in the world, but it meant nothing if he didn’t have the tools to sharpen it with. He’d have to register his quirk, and prove his higher intelligence. Show these humans what real intelligence was, make them need him.  _ He needed- _

“I need...to be above them all. The humans. I’m smarter than them. I need the power to legitimize myself.” He stated, feeling a spark of anger in his gut. Never again, or die resisting. Survival first. Then the rest would follow.  ** _He’d make sure of it._ **

“That, I can do. It would only be fair, yes?” Isadora smiled, and this time Nedzu felt like grinning back. Not because he wasn’t still in shock of being freed, but the smile Isadora gave him was full of teeth, and it screamed of predator. 

“What are you?” Blurted out of his mouth before he could think. The data his Quirk gave him didn’t add up to anything human. Perhaps these people had multiple Quirks, sure. But what Quirk gave someone bi-colored eyes and two sets of incisors? Even more, what Quirk let them crush a human skull with a hand? 

Isadora tilts their head to the side again, expression back to neutral. Nedzu can‘t decide if the smile was fake, or if this face was. There are no age lines on their face. The person behind her, in his line of sight, turns toward them as well. Also neutral. It takes a moment to realize everyone’s heads are turned towards him, no movement besides a few blinks.

In an eerie sequence, their eyes slowly shift to the back of Isadora’s head and stay there. Nedzu feels pressure, suddenly. Similar to how his body would react to a change in air pressure- but there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. Just the weight of a small crowd’s eyes. 

What he doesn’t know is that Rhys has flipped out an enchanted knife, one designed to drive whoever was cut to insanity. It would take Isadora only a second to reach out and touch Nedzu and send his mind to Faerie. He doesn’t know that they read his file- and what his Quirk did. They would have to certainly watch their words with him.

Maybe, Isadora thinks, perhaps we should give him a crumb of information. It’s doubtful we would ever see him again, right?

_ “We are Faerie, Nedzu.” _


	4. Tokoyami and Tsukauchi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Y'all commenting on last chapter actually gave me the drive to spit this out. (@.@)  
Thanks you everyone for the kudos and comments! Let's get the ball rolling!
> 
> Feat: Three year timeskip.  
Izuku and Tokoyami!!!! So cute!  
Bisexual disaster Tsukauchi on main, someone help that poor man.

Little Izuku is a blessing of a child. Three years old, almost four now, and he looks almost exactly like Isadora, save for the freckles that are sure to show any day now. He knows that he’s special, that Mama calls him ‘little treasure’. Uncle Rhys and Aunt Pris let him tag along when they’re out in town, like today! They’re even at a park! 

Uncle Rhys is sitting down on a bench, yellow butterfly on his shoulder. Aunt Pris was at the bakery and Uncle doesn’t like human food. He said Izuku could play in the grass for a bit, but there’s another kid who has a _bird head!_ _Bird head! _Izuku looks at Uncle for a second, then dashes the few meters over to the kid who’s crouched over a flower. Mama says it’s good to make friends! Mama won’t be mad if he makes a friend! Bird head is all alone too! Mama says kids need shup-shuper-shupervigon! 

So he runs over with his ‘good smile’, lips pressed together so he doesn’t show his teeth. The other kid brings his head up to stare at Izuku as he stops and crouches with him. Bird kid must’ve been looking at the flower, but it looks like someone stepped on it. Bird kid doesn’t say anything, and he looks a little sad. It’s hard to tell. What a _ cool beak! _

“Imma Izuku! Hi! I like birds! They pretty!” Izuku gushes out, arm stretched out for a handshake. Izuku knows it’s not safe to touch people without his gloves on, so he looks at the button on both gloves to make sure. Last time he touched a human without his special gloves they started hiccuping beetles! Mama said it’s because they’re both too-ath-a, but she was giggling so he didn’t get in trouble! The kid gives him a weak handshake, then tucks his arms back in quickly.

“I am Toko-'ami Fumi-mi-ka-ka-gay. Fu-mi-ka-ge. I stepped on it. I d-d-did no want to.” Tokoyami- Izuku really wants to call him Toko or Fumi but they’re not friends yet, so he can’t. Why did it feel weird when Toko told him his True Name? As Mama said, no matter! Izuku looks really close at the flower. A dandy-wion! Oh, he sees now. The stem looks all wobbly, and a leaf fell off! Izuku sees why Toko is sad now!

Wait! He can fix this! He can make the flower pretty again! He looks to where Rhys is, waving a hand at the amused Faerie. Uncle has that butterfly on him still! Cool! So Izuku points to the flower he knows Uncle can see, and starts unbuttoning his left glove. He pauses, ignoring Toko’s ‘hunh?’ and looks back to Uncle. Uncle Rhys sighs, but nods and pulls out his phone to record. 

“I can ‘elp it!” Izuku says to the boy, waving a bare hand around. Toko’s eyes are really big as he nods frantically. “Mama theys I got-ta be ‘are-full, but it’s small th-s-so okay!” Izuku hears Uncle say ‘_ Oh boy _’ as he touches the flower.

Mama says that feeling in his tummy is Magic, and that Magic is easy when you think _ really hard _ about it, so that’s what Izuku does. He squeezes his eyes tight and imagines the prettiest dandy-lion, with lotsa blooms! Lotsa leaf! His mind flashes to the sunny-flowers in the backyard, and feels his gut go funny. Dandy-wion! No sunny-flower! Dandy-wion! No sunny-

“Izu-k-ku!” Toko almost yells, and Izuku opens his eyes and takes his hand off the leaf he’d been touching.

Um, oops?

The flower is _ big _, and the bloom is as big as their hands! The stem is really wide too! He looks over at Toko and beams. Toko stares at him and then starts to laugh, falling on his butt. 

“Dat was _ cool! _ Like magick! Boom!” Toko exclaims, hands miming an explosion. Izuku suddenly thinks that Toko is really _ pretty _ with the sunlight on him. His feathers look like shadows! Izuku also _ really _ wants to touch the feathers now. Toko would look pretty with the purple rocks Mama likes! Ame- something! Yes! Lotsa shiny pretty things for his pretty friend! Wait! Toko isn’t his friend yet! Izuku has to ask! Mama’s rules!

“Wanna be friends? I wanna be friends! Toko is pretty!”

“Oh, ok-kay! Hi f-friend! Izu-ku pwetty too!” 

Why would Uncle be laughing like that? Did the butterfly tell him a joke?

\------------------------------------------

On the other side of the district, Tsukauchi Naomasa holds his briefcase tight as he stares at his new jobs’ building. Mustafu Police Department. The infamous Faerie Force. The safest district to raise kids in. He’s nervous beyond belief because there’s a rumor that if the Fae Court doesn’t like you, you find yourself transferred. _ Immediately. _

Toshi got him through the door. Yami knows having _ All Might _ recommending you is bound to raise some eyebrows. 

He fiddles with the pen in his pocket, clicking it feverishly as he tries to calm himself down. Walk across the street, go to the front desk, tell the receptionist he’s the new hire. Probably meet with the Chief, go over his transfer package. Don’t call the Chief out if he lies to you. Introduce himself to any Fae he sees? Will he be able to tell who’s Fae? Okay, so avoid talking to anyone not with a badge. Shit, what if he comes across as insensitive then? What if they don’t feel comfortable with his Quirk? It’s not like he can turn it off and-

“You must be the new Investigator.” Comes a smooth, female voice from his side. He jerks, dropping his briefcase and moves his hand to steady his heart. The woman is frankly, unnaturally gorgeous. His mind settles on _ emerald _, and even that feels incorrect. Heart stil jack-hammering, takes a step back and grabs his suitcase, almost clutching it to his chest.

“Augh! You shouldn’t startle people _ like that! _” Is the first thing that comes out of his mouth. Idiot, who says that? The woman chuckles, cocking a hip to the side and tucks some hair behind her ear.

_ A pointed ear. _His eyes lock on it. He relaxes his Quirk and offers a sheepish hand out. “Detective Tsukauchi- but I’m sure you know that, being Faerie and all.” It’s a little risk, but the woman grins as she takes his hand. Firm grip, good. He notices that she’s wearing white leather gloves, and he wonders what type of leather feels that buttery. 

“You can call me Isadora, Detective. We do not have last names in the Court, after all. Shall we?” Isadora motions towards the building, waiting patiently. 

“Ah, in a moment. First day jitters and all. What’s it like working with a bunch of smelly humans?” He awkwardly adjusts his tie for the umpteenth time, and only then when he hears her _ wheeze _ in laughter does he realize what he just said. _ Just stop talking already, Naomasa. Hello, foot in mouth syndrome? You do this for all the pretty people you meet? Or just the ones who could pop your skull like a grape? _

“I am so sorry- I didn’t- not like that-” She’s bent over laughing, and it sounds like wind chimes. He can see her a little more clearly now that her face is red. A heart-shaped face and high cheekbones, absolutely covered with freckles. There were little braids in her hair, but sloppily done. As an afterthought, she’s actually a bit taller than him. _ Sweet Yami, what do the _ ** _men_ ** _ look like then? Imagine being in _ ** _that_ ** _ sandwich- shut up, idiot! _

Isadora comes up, the last few peals tapering off. She shrugs, fishing out a phone but only glancing at the screen for a second. Mirthful green eyes peered at him, a corner of her mouth tipped up.

“It is...interesting.” No lie, good. “You humans are very different from us.” Not a lie, _ yikes. _ “Some of you live your life to the fullest, some are content to wither away.” She gives him a Gallic shrug, something he _ only _knew about because of his internship in Marseilles. “You will learn soon enough, yes. One day, you will be on a side.”

_ The rumors didn’t say anything about them being ominous! Mark me down scared and- _

** _Shut up, idiot!!!_ **

“Come into the office with me.” She offers, holding out a crooked arm. Tsukauchi hardly blinks as he threads his arm through hers, walking to the crosswalk. Probably smart not to jaywalk in front of the police station, anyways. “To ease your mind, there is only one other Fae inside, Fianna.” A few men stare at him in envy as they walk, glaring at him as they talk on their phones. That suits Tsukauchi just fine, and fights the childish reaction to stick his tongue out. 

“Fi...anna?” He can’t pronounce it like Isadora does. “Do they have a nickname? No offense, but it’s a little hard to say your names.” Isadora thankfully laughs, patting his arm with her free hand. They’re only a block away now, and seeing the building reawakens his nerves. 

“Fianna may let you create a nickname, human!” Tsukauchi looks at her smile from the side, finding her eyes already on him. “If she likes you, Detective.” She pauses, and he watches her eyes dash to his throat as he gulps. “I see you like green. Did you wear that color on purpose?” There’s amusement in her tone, but for the life of him Tsukauchi doesn’t find the humor.

“Well, yes?” Only a few stores away as the crowds part around them, thankfully giving them the illusion of privacy. “It’s a nice tie, my uh, friend, said it looks good on me.” He finally sees a peek of teeth as she grins.

_ Stop staring at her, you creep! Maybe try blinking! _

They slow their walk the last few meters, dropping their linked arms. Yeah, she’s certainly taller than him. Just wearing a black sweater and grey pinstripe pants, which he finds odd. Well, it’s probably because they don’t wear the uniform, right?

It takes him a moment to realize Isadora appears to be studying him. Her head was tilted a little too much to the side to look natural.

“It’s a wonderful color on you.” Is all she says after a beat before moving to enter. He hastily follows, swallowing down the last of his nerves. Twenty-four years old and still got nervous, for shame! “You will be _ quite _an addition to our family, Tsukauchi. Do not worry about your Quirk. After all...hm. You will see!”

As he watches her enter the bull pen, he notes it’s pretty easy to spot Fianna. They both have that same intensity to them, even as he sees them kiss each other’s cheeks. Fianna glances to him and smirks, motioning for him to come over. He doesn't trust the mischievous look in _either _of their eyes. 

“We do not bite, human!” Fianna yells with an arm around Isadora’s waist, grabbing the attention of _ literally everyone _ , even the civilians giving statements. _ Oh no. _ “Unless you beg very, _ very _ nicely! Or if you have been naughty! Have you been _ naughty _, new human?”

<strike> _ Yes mommy, I’ve been so, so naughty and _ </strike>

** _SHUT UP, IDIOT!_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Speech development for a three year old with a beak? Sounds exhausting.
> 
> Note: To maintain canon, Tsukauchi is 24 in this chapter. (BNHA Wili says he’s 36 by the time Izuku is 15) Him and All Might met in high school and briefly had a fling. It takes character development to go from disaster bi to functional bi!


	5. Chat Chapter #1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a bunch of little gems in this one. Y'all are too kind and asdfghjkl thanks for all the kudos and comments. It fuels me!!!
> 
> Isadora- Isadora (female)  
RhysesPieces- Rhys (pronounced as Reese, hence the nickname) (male)  
Pris-sypants- Priscilla (female)  
Grimm- Gwyn (male)  
Fianna-deck-you - Fianna (female)  
BanSCREE- Aelfdene (female)  
Ambrosia- Ewen (non-binary)
> 
> Sherlock- Tsukauchi  
Ameriweeb- All Might

** _Isadora changed the chat name to: FIANNA NO_ **

** _Fianna-deck-you changed the chat name to: FIANNA YES_ **

** _Isadora changed the chat name to: TEST. ME._ **

**Fianna-deck-you: ** asdfghjkl okok pleasedonot

**Isadora: ** Fianna, you are going to give the man a heart attack. Or a boner. Both are inappropriate in the work environment. Get! Off! His! Desk!

**Fianna-deck-you:** You started it! He smelled like you when he came in! :D Look at hiiiiim! He’s so cute! All that stammering! And blushing! Like a puppy! >:)

**RhysesPieces: ** The new Investigator? Fianna  _ what did you do _

**Pris-sypants: ** 2 days of police rotation new human comes over for dinner at LEAST once in the next two weeks. Really, Rhyses Pieces? You have an addiction.

**Fianna-deck-you: ** Bet, but one week, not two. And nothing too bad! Just getting to know the new human. He has a green tie on ;););)

**Grimm: ** What is this human’s quirk? Rhys, you have an addiction to human candy. Face the music.

**RhysesPieces: ** Isadora is taking a while to type...Fianna, let the poor man settle in. Terrorize him later, ‘warrior’. I do not have an addiction! They are simply delicious!

**Isadora: ** Apparently, he can tell when someone lies to him. Unclear if works on anything besides blatant lies. He was quite nervous while he explained it to the Chief and I. Do  _ not  _ straight out ask him about it. I am curious what his X-ray looks like.

**Fianna-deck-you: ** …

**RhysesPieces: ** …

**Pris-sypants: ** …

**Grimm: ** Isadora. Is he fae-touched? That seems less like a Quirk and more like a possible bloodline. Your suspicions are normally correct in some way. It would explain a sensitivity towards Fae, as well. You said he copied our habit of not blinking when you made prolonged eye contact?

**Isadora: **Seemed embarrassed only after he noticed it, yes. Rhys, run a background check for relatives not in the picture, but no farther than great grand-parents. Look for the typical signs. How is my little sapling, by the way? Did he enjoy his outing?

**Pris-sypants: ** Oh, Izuku had a wonderful day! He made the cutest friend, a child named Tokoyami Fumikage. Izuku shares your fascination with ravens. May want to keep an eye on that, it’s an obvious tell to who  _ you  _ are.

**BanSCREE: ** _ hhhhhhhsorrytointerrupt _

**BanSCREE: ** Your Majesty, did you see the news about Endeavour? One of the twins was put in the hospital again. Please let me investigate. I’ll be good!

**BanSCREE: ** Well, as good as my Unseelie ass can be :)

**Isadora:** Go. Take our lovely Dullahan with you.  _ Behave, bean sidhe.  _ That is, if you are available?  _ @Ambrosia _

**Isadora: ** _ Pictures, Priscilla. Now. _

**Ambrosia: ** 15 minutes? Tidying up inventory for Beltane. We need a  _ lot  _ of mead.  _ @BanSCREE _

**Isadora: ** Fianna, go ahead and invite Tsukauchi for dinner at 8pm. He won’t refuse. Casual dress. We’re going to give him Faerie food and initiate bare-skin touch. I have a hunch. If he’s Fae-touched…

**Grimm: ** He will relax after food and drink. If not, then he will become sick. Which you will soothe, of course. He’s walking out of here with at most 10% corruption, yes?

**Isadora: ** Humans work fast, but I work faster.

**Isadora: ** (｡◝‿◜｡)

**RhysesPieces: ** I  _ hate _ it when you pull the emojis out. But yes, Izuku repaired a small flower his new friend stepped on. The child has an _ unbearably  _ cute raven head. The child seems to struggle with consonants due to his beak, and is a touch shy. 

**RhysesPieces: ** The child’s mother was inattentive. We had to look for her. Kiddo looks nothing like her, but Tokoyami confirmed the relation. They have a playdate set up same time next week.

**Isadora: ** I would be more than happy to take my son to meet his new friend. 

**Fianna-deck-you: ** Yeah, didn’t think anyone would challenge you on that.

**Isadora: ** _ :) _

**BanSCREE: ** If I find signs of child abuse, what is the plan?  _ I will scream. _

**Grimm: ** Murder, main, mayhem? All three? Endeavour should take a look at  _ my _ flames. From up close.  _ Point blank _ , even. Green and red work so well together, do they not?

**Pris-sypants: ** Gwyn? You are Seelie?  _ @Isadora  _ tell us your alignment! We have money on it!

**Ambrosia: ** Just finished up.  _ @BanSCREE  _

**Ambrosia: ** What Faerie  _ is not  _ ready to rip out a heart?

**Pris-sypants: ** _ Usually the Seelie ones! What is wrong with you? We must do this within the human system!  _

**Isadora:** _@Pris-sypants _that is my secret, and I am well aware there is money on my alignment. 〳 ᓀ ﹏ ᓂ 〵

**RhysesPieces: ** _ I miss Kyoko so much right now. _

\---------------------------------------------

**Sherlock:**

_ Sdfghjngiwiw TOshI HELP _

**Ameriweeb:**

Oh, a keysmash! Been a while since ive seen that from you.

**Sherlock:**

_ I MET THE FAERIE AND GOT INVITED TO DINNER AT THEIR COURT _

**Ameriweeb:**

YOU WHAT.

DONT GO.

**Sherlock:**

ARE YOU BATSHIT OF COURSE IM GOING

THEYRE SO NCIE 

AND ATTRACTIVE TOSHI THEY’RE ALL INSANE 

WHAT DO I WEAR HELP

**Ameriweeb:**

INSANE IS RIGHT

You dont have the info i do

Theyre not human

**Sherlock:**

THEYRE NOT HUMAN THATS THE POINT

OH FUCK ARE THEY GONNA KIDNAP ME

IM TOO YOUNG TO DIE

**Ameriweeb:**

They dont kill humans

They work for the emperor though

Even i dont get access to the queens file

evryones scared shitless of her

Nedzus been bugging me about it

**Sherlock:**

IM SAFE THEN COOL

I UH

WHATS THE QUEENS NAME

YOURE NO HELP IM JUST GONNA WEAR MY BASEBALL JERSEY

**Ameriweeb:**

I dont see how people think youre composed

You disaster bi

It’s Isadora btw

Green hair/green eyes

182 cm

Why are you calling

HOW DID YOU NOT KNOW

**Sherlock:**

NOT LIKE I ASKED TOSHI!!!!!!11!!!

STILL GONNA GO

THEYRE PICKING ME UP IN 30 MINS FUK MY LIFE

**Ameriweeb:**

Text me every hour and DO NOT drink any alcohol i swear to god

They don’t have top 10 heroes over so i dont know whats gonna happen

Trust none of them

They’re old as shit

Be careful

**Sherlock:**

I’ll be careful, Toshi. I promise. Maybe they do this with the new people

I did say i was nervous about meeting the Fae to her

When are you coming back?

**Ameriweeb: **

You know I cant tell you Nao

Soon, i swear

Earliest two weeks from now

Nao?

**Sherlock:**

Did oyu know the Fae cant lie? Like it makes them sick

Wish humans were like that

Im ok they just picked me up

Jlsfajfaafbaf

_ Motorcycle.jpeg _

**Ameriweeb:**

What do you mean by that

Im not lying to you Nao

My work is confidential you know that

THats a duCATI

..

Its been an hour whats happening

**Sherlock:**

Isadora has the cutest fucking kid ive ever seen

Calls me Tsu-ki

Gave him a piggyback ride

THE FOOD IS SO GOOD

Brb almost dessert

**Ameriweeb: **

Can you take pictures inside

Does technology work in there

Did they remove their glamour

…

Hour mark

**Sherlock:**

Dessert was angel cake and strawberries im so full

Those are very specific questions Toshi

Im outside in the front yard talking with Gwyn

Some of them look a little different

But its like

**Ameriweeb:**

Who is Gwyn

Are you ok

Nao what do you mean

**Sherlock:**

Gwyn is a handsome male Fae, he’s Seelie

They laugh so much and include me

It’s like a big happy family

We’re about to watch a disney movie

Everyone is snuggled up on this giant couch

Ive been hugged more times tonight than in the past year

I missed being touched is that weird

**Ameriweeb:**

Naomasa…

I know they might look like a big happy family

But theyre not human

You are

Everything they do is a lie

Nao?

You there? 

Im calling if you don’t answer in the next 10 mins

Goddamnit

Call me when you wake up

Please

\-----------------------------------------

** _Grimm has changed the chat name to: RHYS YOU LEGEND_ **

**Grimm: ** HES A BIT MORE THAN FAE TOUCHED THATS FOR SURE

**Isadora: ** Well this changes things! Poor thing, though. Knackered out halfway through the movie.

**RhysesPieces: ** I am surprised about how much food he ate. Isadora, are you familiar with waterkin?

**Isadora:** Use that slur again and I will  _ cut off your sword arm _ . None of you will use that term in my Court. That is an Order from your Queen.

**Fianna-deck-you: ** Yes, Your Majesty.

**RhysesPieces: ** I apologize, My Queen. Duly noted.

**Grimm: ** Is there anything we need to do for him? He was texting someone earlier and looked upset.

**Isadora: ** Just be there for him, as you all needed when you first came to my Court. I am going to tuck Izuku in. Gwyn, you’re on the roster tomorrow. Would you please give him a ride to work?

**Grimm: ** Of course. Rhys, he might need to borrow a shirt. Is that okay?

**RhysesPieces: ** Not a problem at all. Pastel blue, magenta, or green?

  
**Pris-sypants: ** We  _ all  _ know the answer to that one ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bean sidhe- old form of banshee  
Fianna- old form of the Irish word warrior, were the royal bodyguard for the High King, or Ard-ri. In this story the Seelie King is the Ard-ri.  
waterkin- a slur used for those whose fae blood has been 'watered down'
> 
> EDIT: 
> 
> Spoilers in the comments y’all


	6. (｡◝‿◜｡)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's finals week, pray for me.
> 
> What's canon, anyways? Nervous about some changes, not so nervous about others.
> 
> This chapter was almost named Paradigm Shift.

“Izuku? Come, _ geal leanbh _. Let me tell you the story of the Tuatha Dé Dannan, of you and I.”

They’re in Izuku’s toddler bed, Isadora sits cross-legged and hums as her child sits between her legs. The room is done in jewel tones, deep burgundy and cobalt blues, with a young cherry tree just starting to poke its branches through the open window. He grabs the fox and raven plushie and hugs them, head tilted up to look at her. She can only coo at the sight of her five year-old, so inquisitive about the world. Izuku’s been asking more and more about why they’re different from humans, what magic he can do. They’ve all agreed to let him learn little things, like creating breezes and making his stuffed animals look like each other.

“Are there heroes, _ mathair _?” She smiled down at him and brushed the tip of his ear. “Are there bad people?”

“Of course there are, but not like heroes on the news.” She remarked softly, waving a hand in the air for soft will-o-wisps to form and glow soft gold. “These heroes are heroes because they lived, even when the bad people tried to hurt them. Are you comfortable?”

“Yes, _ mathair. _ Were you there? Was it a battle?” Izuku shifted so his face rested on the crook of her shoulder, staring at her with unblinking eyes. _ So cute! _

Isadora lifted a finger to her lips and smirked. “I was there, but it is a secret only us old people still remember. We came from a far, far, far, away land. Some humans say we came from Atlantis, others say Greece. Do you want to know the truth?” Izuku nodded as best as he could, the glitter in his eyes more and more excited. 

“Do you know how Faerie is different from the human world?” A curious nod. “We came from a place like that, but even _ more _ magical!” She watched her son’s eyes grow wide, giggled when he let out a soft _ wow _.

“_ More magic _ than home? Than the _ backyard _?” He paused, muttering into his fox for a second. She waited for him to finish and look back up at her.

“Why would I leave, yes? Our tribe leader, _ Danu _ , wanted to travel to a new land. We had been fighting for hundreds of years, and we were all _ very _tired.” Izuku doesn’t miss the Goddess’s name and gasps, but lets her continue.

“So we flew through this tiny little cut between our world and this one, and found a little island that is called Ireland now.” She nods seriously as her finger and thumb are almost touching, before waving her hand again and morphing the fairy lights to bright green. 

“But, there were people called Firbolgs who already owned the land, and we battled them for their home. In the end, we agreed to split the land so we could both live there.” Isadora pinched one of her son’s dimples, letting her hand be bat away by her flustered kid.

“So you didn’t make them leave?” He asked hopefully, voice a tad muffled from him sticking his face into his plushies. “‘Cause they would have no home. Homes are nice. And warm.”

“We shared the land, sweetie. Like you share your toys with Fumi, right? You let him play with Mr. Fox and Mrs. Squid when he comes over?” Isadora could only be charmed by the blush on her kids face at the mention of his best friend. If little Fumikage only knew how much her son doted on him.

“The secret is, you and I are not like your Uncle or Aunt or the rest of our happy family.” The shift in her tone make Izuku settle, silent doe eyes unblinking. “They are _ sidhe _ , we are _ Dé Dannan. _ We are at the top, for magic. That is why as you grow, you will be stronger than them. You will have more magic in your finger than most Fae will ever have. _ You have to be careful. _ Magic will come to you naturally, no need to learn it. It will teach you. _ I will teach you how to shape it. _ I’ll show you every little secret, every sly trick. I want you to _ flourish _.”

* * *

  
  
  


Isadora worries about putting her son in public school. Children his age have their Quirks, and she is _ terrified _ of her child being injured. Izuku is still capable of being hurt to the point of blood- as he will be until he comes of age. She sighs, sinking down in her chair in the War Room. 

But, she knows her son can handle his own. The Zephyrs adored him, and they would have no issue following him and aiding. Minor illusion magic, though it does not hold up against touch or sound. Easily remedied. _ Still. _ What had her parents done when she was her son’s age? Let her play in the woods, _ alone _? 

Isadora _ knows _ that Izuku can keep quiet about things. But like any other child, he does not quite know _ when _ to keep quiet. Or more importantly, how to avoid answering a question without lying. Glamour may be free- as it was one of the Court’s core values, but magical mistakes were a wildcard. If her child decided to follow the whims of hyperactive 5 year-olds, _ anything _ could happen.

Briefly, she imagined getting a call along the lines of ‘_ Your son charmed a mountain lion during recess.’ _ and shuddered, remembering the stray kitten that Izuku brought home from the park, only for them to realize it was a _ bobcat kit _. Ah, but the ball was rolling now.

_ Your son put an illusion over the teacher’s chalkboard. _

_ Izuku-chan is being followed by a flock of birds. Is this normal? _

_ Your child broke another students arm after his friend started crying! They’re five! _

_ There is a thick fog surrounding your son and it’s disturbing the class. _

With an uncharacteristic groan, she let her head fall on the table with a _ thunk _. 

No wonder her parents had adopted the hands-off approach. Dé Dannan were _ nightmares _ to raise. Isadora tilts her head to the side, letting herself wallow. Because all the potential magical mishaps aside, he _ needed _ to socialize. Preferably with children his age. Where to start looking, though? Private schools were always an option, though she would likely enroll him in an afterschool club so he could integrate with less-privileged kids. Something childish, to combat any snobbish airs he encountered in class. 

Isadora groaned _ again _ . Izuku, she realized, was living in a westernized home. With Faerie rules and customs. Which were, hm, _ explicitly _ not Japanese. Shoes indoors, not saying specific words, namely _ thank you _ . Favor and gift exchanging. Holidays. _ Iron. _

It was a blessing Isadora was alone in the room. It would have been embarrassing for anyone to see her violently slam her head on the table and whisper:

_ “Ah, balls.” _

* * *

  
  


Ewen places the medical file of Todoroki back, and stares at the unmoving child with horror on their face. There’s too many tubes, but they can see white hair on the child’s left side.

They shakily pull out their phone and slowly type in the words:

_ Todoroki Rei _

_ 1 Result: _

_ Quirk: Ice Heart _

**Ambrosia: **You need to read these files, Isadora.

**Issa-dorable: **On the scale of 1-10?

**Ambrosia: **13\. 

**Issa-dorable: **20 minutes away.

* * *

  
  


Tangentially, Naomasa was aware something had changed the first year of his new job. Hyper-sensitive to humidity and breezes, who wears a jacket anyone? Not him. Gaelic words, once tongue-twisters, flow like water.

_ Ar scàth a chèlle a mhaireann na daoine. _

The only question was if it was _ him _who was changing, or everyone around him?

H̴e̴ ̴k̸n̷E̶w̶ ̶I̴t̶ ̸w̷A̸s̸ ̵h̵ ̷i̴ ̷m̷,̸ ̷i̷n̶ ̸T̷h̴T̵ ̷d̴a̴**R̵ ̶k̷ ̶ ̷ ̷h̷O̴u̸R̵s̵ ̶o̷f̵ ̴t̵ ̴H̷** ̷e̴ ̶n̷i̴g̷h̶t̶.̵ ̸H̷e̸ ̴w̷a̵ ̴s̵ ̶ **M̷O̸R̸E̶** ,̶ ̶b̶u̶t̷ ̶h̸a̶d̵n̵'̸t̵ ̵h̶e̴ ̸a̸l̶W̴a̴Y̷s̶ ̴k̶n̴ ** _O̷W̷n̷ ̷t̷ ̵h̸a̷t̶ ̶ ̴?̵?̶?̵?̵ ̷ ̵_ **

Friday nights have him relaxing in the loose embrace of Gwyn, who murmurs stories of the Seelie Court and the Ard-Ri _ -High King- _, of the Wild Hunt and the Unseelie night gardens. 

Naomasa stares into the mirror and sees his eyes are the rich brown of upturned, fertile soil. Likewise, he lifts a strand of hair and briefly watches the light cast a dark halo around him-

Oh _<strike> Yami-Danu-Gods</strike> _

_Did his reflection just blink? _

* * *

  
  


Nedzu sits down across from the Emperor.

_ Why does the Emperor at 85 only look 30 years old? _

_ You know why, you fool. _

Isadora rests in the backyard garden and smiles, teeth and all.

“Mama, look! I’m flying!”

* * *

All Might stands in front of the Hidden Court, clutching his side.

They let Nana die.

Curious green eyes peer back from behind a curtain.

The child smiles and waves.

So that is the Court’s Prince. 

What white teeth the kid has.

Toshinori desperately hopes the child will never try to be a hero.

** _They’re all villains. _ **

* * *

  
  


All for One almost drops the ink black box down, and rings the doorbell with shaking hands. Pain and nerves dance over his spine, spasming his hamstrings and pulling a charley horse in a calf. Please, let this work. _ Why do his brother’s successors never ask for the true story? _

A few moments. Good thing he’s sent Kurogiri away. Thermal Imagery shows the Little Prince on the other side. Time to scar the small child, it seems. He’ll apologize later._ If there’s a later. _

He has to rely on the small _ whoosh _ to mean the door is open. A beat, then- 

_ “ _ Oh, _ fu-Danu. _ Please, come on in. Gently, there’s a step. That’s me touching your elbow now, let us get you to the medics. Past the wards, you’re doing great. Priscilla! Isadora! This man needs healing, _ now! _” 

“My name *_ hrk* _ is **Hisashi Midoriya** . I- _ *hrk* _-need help.”

“Midoriya, shit- we can’t heal you if -_ ISADORA!- _ you pass out!”

A hand grabs his, smooth and chill. How different her voice is in real-time. 

**“About time you showed up, ** ** _Hisashi. _ ** **We shall take care of you. Hush now, and dream deep.”**

  
  
  
  
  


**f̵̨̛̝̜̙͎̖̹̼̹̪̩̳̜̺͓͎̲̬̱͙͇̥̦̭̳̀̿̋̃͗͗̌̽̎̑̈͑̑͑̈́̊̓̇͛̍͗̋́̏͘̚͜ǫ̴̻̘͚̹̻̜̻̥̰͈͕͉͓̣̘͙̲̙̹̳̹͉͕͍̖̯̉̅͒̈̃͆͌̌͝ṟ̸̨̧̨̩̫̩͕͈̪̫̟̗̲͍̠͍̣̟̮̟̪̖͎̰̋̈́̿͜͠ ̷̛̛̜̜̹̩̩̯̪̪̬͇̃̿̓͆͑̈́̄͐͂͘͝͝͝ę̶̭̖̼͖͙̩̠̖̳̩̏̔̿̒̾̃̎͌͠v̵̡̢̛̺̣͙͖̪̫̯̰̲͚͕͔͕̣͙̦̪̤̭̻̝̖͙̟͊̈̀̐̎̍̈̃̈́̓̔͑͗͆̄̇̇̄͋̄̏̎͛̋̍͌́͐̓̕̚͜͠͝ȩ̷̨̧̧̢͓̱̪͚̭̭̲̯̱̳̫̥̪͇̻͎͖̺̲̾̃̈́͌̒̊͐̋̕͜͜͜ͅͅṛ̵̢̨̢͖͉̥̠̯̤̟̟̯̹͙̊̆̾͐̀̈͊̋̔̓̋̽ͅÿ̷̨̨̛̜̦̮̰͉͍́̀̃̅͌̐͗̕͜͠͝ ̷̢̡̞̬͇̹̝͕̝̭͕͎͖̯̝͙͎̮̾̊̅͊͋̓͂̏́̈́̿͋͐̈́̋͌̅͗̒͝͝͝ͅd̶̨͓͍͎͌̊̈́̎̑͆̋̌̍͗̐͘r̴̡̢̡͎͍̬̰͎̫͇̙͔̼̙̘̼̺̳̞̱̲̗̙̠͉̪̙͕͉̓̾́̃̏̿̋̾̑̓̈̈́̍͐͋̓̇̋̅̕͜ę̶̝̼̦͖̣̩͋͆͂̓͆̀͗̾̿̌͆̄̇̔̎͌̂̅͒̅̿͘͝a̸̡̨̗̮͕̞͈̭̭̗̺̖̭̝̥͉̜̪̮̬͉̓̔͆̃̀̍m̵̨̧̙͚̯̺͔͓̣̝̬̼̤̮̟̭̣̥̱̖̣̳̳̞̭̤̼̳͈̰͔̻̞̌̾͛̌̎̾̊̔̏̊̒̾̇͆̅̄͂̓̐͊͋̎̄͌̑̅͝͠͝ ̷̨̡̛̗͓͓̞̦̫̮̰̖͐̊̈́̌̑̓̇͑́̽̃̇̋̆͋̏͆̓̀̌̀̂̈́̊̾̕̕̚̕̕͜p̶̨̯̫̠͍̗̬̬̹̬̦̮͔̙̩̭̜̩̲̝͆͆̋̌͌͊́̕͠͠r̵̨͔̯̪̪̖̬͉̆͊̓̃̄̈̅̎̇̒͌͋̊͗͑͆͗̅̀͑̓̂̈́͜e̷̪̭͇̭̣̩͒͐̇̓̿̀̆c̷̨̡͕̣̖͕̮͚̙̣̰͕̱͉̠͖͈̦̖̪͖̜̗͇͕͉̱̜̫̲̈̏͂̔̄̏̎̍̆͑̎̈́̿̿͐̒͊͒̋̉̋̊͊͒̕ē̴̛̥̥̰̘͔̗̱͕̦͈̽̓̓͐́̉̉̑̓̒̿̈́̈́͂̎̇̈́̈̓͊͂̒̀͂͜͠͠d̴̡̡̗̟̠̪͉̱̳͕̙͈͍̫̠̞͛̓͒̏̈͛̏̊͊̑̏̊̎̋̽̽́̾̂̏͘̕̕͝e̶̡̛̼̼̩͓̝̲͇̟̘̫̹̟͐͘͜ͅs̶̨̡̰͙͇̟̻̲̤̰͎̙͖̙̩̥̥̹̞͓̲̦͎͉͓̠̻͖͙̣̥̒̑̂̄͐̉̄̏͊̒͌̈́̔͑̌̚ͅͅͅ ̴̨͇̻̥̩̹̳͈̯̠̗͔̟͔͖͖͔͔͍͕̪̼̼̩͎̗̍̎͊͐̔̌̏̓̔̌͛͛̿̓͋͗̓̕͝͝t̸̨̛͇̾͑͐̈́̐̈̐̽͆̉͊̑͌̍͊̈́͛̿̎̈́̌͒̂̈́̃̚͠͝h̵̞̰͖̰͖̘̩̤̻͔̞̭̣̟̪̤̟͈̩͕̦̋͆̋̒̕̕ȩ̴̡̘̜̣̱̲̺̲̱̯̬̦͇͍̥̹̮̞̟̥̯͇̼̤̓͒͒̓̆͌̇͐́͆̒͒͋̅̃̆̈́́̈́̓̑̈́̀͜͝͠͝ ̴̢̢̱͇̝̬̲̜̜̪̙̭̞̖̠̞̩̤̝̹̺̦̠͎̬̃̒͊̉̊̿́͌́̃̒̆̑̍̅́̈́̎̚͜͜͠ͅģ̴̛̤̣͓̘̖̻̜̝͇̞͆̇̽̅̃́̈́̆͂͐̈̆̆̐̉̉̚̕ö̸̢̧̧̧̢̧̭̻̥̜͇͔̭͉̳̺̘̳̱͈̺́͊͂̂̌̽̍̉͐̿͑̅̈̄͛͆̍͋̎͘̚͘͘͝͠͝ä̸̢̧̡̧̛̰̭̦͙̘̖̯̤̼̩͕̗̠̬̮̝̯̻̞̰̗̱́̂͋͋̿̓̆̓̉̑̍̊̏̔̆̏̈́͂̌͊̐̀̌͆̈̕̕̕͜͠͠ͅl̵͚̝͉̣̪̜̺̥̹̲̳̤̩̦̝̠̃̓͛̆̍͌͌̈̄̔͒̚̕ͅ**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adapt, or Die.
> 
> Geal leanbh: Irish Gaelic for cherished child.  
Mathair: Irish Gaelic for Mother.  
Tuatha de Danaan: The Children of Danu, also translated in other texts as the People of Danu, said to be blessed by the goddess Danu  
Ar scàth a chèlle a mhaireann na daoine: "People live in each other’s shadows.” Meaning,  
we are shielded from the sun by each other, we rely on each other for  
shelter.


	7. All For One's dilemma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welp  
So sorry for the delay, I hit a weird formatting issue.  
Bit of a short chapter  
Happy Holidays!

All for One, known by two humans and now a small conglomerate (what’s a group of fae called? A natural disaster? A death knell?) of Fae as Hisashi Midoriya, is staring with his freshly healed eyes at a small cup of tea he can drink with his freshly healed mouth. Across from him sits Isadora and her bodyguard Rhys. It’s a lovely room, dark blues and bright silvers accenting the hand-carved walnut table separating them. The other Fae putter around him, and he nods as a small grey-skinned creature refills his cup. It’s only proper to celebrate with a cup of Earl Grey. 

He feels cornered though, and thinks that perhaps he should’ve found a way to scope out the inside of this place before asking (not begging, not pleading, never that) for aid.

_Hisashi Midoriya would’ve liked to know he couldn’t use his Quirk in Faerie. _

On the other hand- there’s a small, hidden, childish glee in seeing people he only heard of from fairy tales in the flesh. Though, he originally thought this was an extension of the Seelie Court. The first sight of the Dullahan rectified that. 

**Bzzt, try again!** The voice sounds suspiciously like his brother.

“So, Hisashi.” The bodyguard speaks in an even, neutral tone. Rhys has bone-white hair and ashen skin, long tapered ears and magenta eyes. There’s an ornate gold sword on his hip, but not a single piece of armor. “Are the gifts you’ve been giving to our Queen...are they of a romantic nature?” Not a single emotion crosses Isadora’s face as her eyes flick to the unopened gift sitting on the table between them. He hears a Fae in the background choke and sputter.

What’s the proper response here, again? Shame he forgot his Faerie Etiquette pamphlet at home. Flirtatious, then? Charm? He can’t be indifferent. He knows at the very least he _must_ be hospitable. Polite. Dare he say, _gracious_.

“At first, I wanted to catch your attention.” How sweet it is to speak without the mouth aching. His throat burning at every inhale and the chronic, jittery pain in his jaw. “As the years went by, I became curious of what your goal is. I never left a name because your reactions are quite irregular.” _Can’t lie, so don’t lie_. He remembers that, at least. Rhys nods slightly, tapping his fingers on the sword’s hilt.

“Then, I became somewhat enamored with the thought of meeting another person who’s lived past the normal human lifespan.”

Finally, that gets the signature, eerie head tilt from the both of them, and he’s distantly aware the surrounding noise has quieted a bit. 

“You are not Faerie.” Isadora says after a beat, narrowed emerald eyes taking him in. “You are a human who has stolen another’s vitality.” 

“The strong survive.”

“_Not like that._” She grounds out, shifting forward in the seat. It really must be Faerie, because otherwise he’d never even glance at the generous bosom her crossed arms creates. It is a pretty dress though, rose-gold and are those real flowers sewn into the dress? “We repaired you because your condition was not in accordance with a _life worth living._ You have been hiding from Death for quite a while now, have you_ not_?” Hisashi watches her green eyebrow tick up. 

He swears he hears his brother singing **‘snap back to reality, oh, there goes gravity-’**

If Hisashi had not painstakingly cultivated his persona of Not Giving A Shit, now would have been the time to mutter something along the lines of _fuckfuckfuckityfuckfuck._

Her presence feels like he’s been tied to the anchor and thrown off the ship. The hairs on the back of his neck rise like he’s witnessing the birth of a thunderstorm. Distantly, he wonders what a slap from her would feel like. Lightening? Cold water? An inferno?

To his pleasure, it is more than double the aura All Might faced him with. 

Isadora stands and Rhys backs away from her. The others are silent as the grave, save for a male voice muttering _‘here we go’_.

“Your price.” She starts, her hair gently moving in the still air. “Your _price_.” With that, Hisashi is thrown backward into the seat by the pressure, tea splashing on his shirt. Her eyes flash gold and he swears her hands had claws for a moment. Hisashi is powerless here. Oh, is this the Faerie price? Karma? Yami, coming to get his due? He watches Isadora laugh, and the sound is some unholy cross between the sound of an executioner’s blade and wind chimes.

“_If I hear that your allies, your affiliates, your shell companies, informants or a **single** person who you benefit from hurt, scar, or manipulate a child under eighteen in any sort of way or shape I **will** reverse your healing **and then some**, and you will wish All Might had truly killed you the first time._” She speaks in a thunderous tone and he hears the words echo in his bones. He may have miscalculated. On several accounts.

_“I saw your dream, and you will **not** have it. Choose another if you want to** continue** breathing.”_

* * *

Izuku loves humans. How could he not? They’re all so _different_. Mathair sent him to this big building and it’s full of kids like him! There’s a boy with metal legs and he moves super fast! Fumi is here too! Izuku really wants to talk to this girl with long, black hair. She said she likes tea! He _loves_ tea!

But he’s really happy Fumi is here. The other kids make fun of him sometimes when the lunches the school have don’t come with forks or knives. So Izuku asked mathair if he could carry silver forks and she let him! Fumi has a bird head and that’s so much_ better_ than long fingers or changing the color of wood, like the other kids brag about. So what if the lady doesn’t give Fumi food that he can eat without spilling? That’s what friends are for! Plus, Fumi’s smile when Izuku dug the fork out of his bag on takoyaki day, was _wonderful_.

To top it off, Fumi has Dark Shadow! So much better than the bullies. Dark Shadow is warm and soft to touch, and the simmering skin is cool to watch! Mathair gave him this really long talk about only showing off his magic when he wanted to, not when strangers asked him. So he did! He flew during recess and made Kata-san’s eraser look like a strawberry when it was just a normal one!

It’s funny when they ask him what his Quirk is. Silly humans, he doesn’t have one! Fumi giggles with him, shoulder to shoulder, hands grasping each other’s shirt. 

“I’m really happy you’re m-my f-friend, Izu.”

“Of_ course_!” Izuku crows out, “You’re my best-est friend in the whole wide world!” 

* * *

Shinshou Hitoshi is tired. He’s getting the sense he’s going to always be tired. He’s tired of foster parents turning him away and not talking to him. He’s tired of the bullies and the headaches his Quirk gives him. His last foster parent who made him stay in the closet if he asked a question.  
He’s.   
Just.  
Tired.

Hitoshi looks at his banged up cell phone and hovers over the forum post. 

_If you can see this you need help. Help we will give to you for free._   
_The Hidden Court._

He clicks the hyperlink and looks at the gif. It’s a door of all things, the color shifting from gold to black to gold again. Whatever. He sighs, disappointed, locking the phone and pushing it back into his pocket. It was a good try. 

That night he dreams of an endless field of flowers, and a green-haired woman in a dress made of twilight. Her eyes are full of warmth for him, and he cries as he falls into her embrace.

_‘Go ahead and cry yourself dry, little one. I will hold you until you push me away.’_

Why would even think about pushing the first person who’s hugged him in so long away?

_‘We shall find you, little siren. We shall make sure you find a true family. I promise to keep an eye on your fate.’_

* * *

  
Isadora sits on the throne in front of the floor-length mirror and allows herself a moment of nerves as she smooths out the hemline of her dress. Today’s dress is spider silk, still silver. It is not a dress meant to be worn in sunlight, no slip worn under it. Only the finest can be adorned when addressing another monarch. Twenty minutes from now the King of the Celestial Court will call through mirror-magic. Just an old chat, he said. But eighty-some years is eighty-some years without her ear on the ground. 

There’s too much that could have changed- in the way that perhaps slight offenses could be given- serving a dish the other now hated, new loyalty colors inappropriately shown. So a classic dress, meant to show off wealth and talented seamstresses. The tight fit, to show the assets and perhaps charm. 

It was also a dress she had worn when she was the Morrigan. 

That is why her staff was propped against the throne. Innocuous, a gentle reminder. However, the grimoire on the purple pillow was the true threat.

As the Morrigan she had not been much invested into metal weapons. No, she had been a Goddess of magic, who rained down fire and blood. A walking death omen, chanting her enemies into fear and frenzy. The shapeshifter who cried out when death stole the last breath of their lungs.

As Isadora, her facade played into her lesser known abilities. Dreaming magic, bouts of prophecy. Affinity with water- why _wouldn’t_ she have chosen Japan- an _island_, if there wasn’t a tongue-in-cheek joke to be made? The academic with a softness for children. The ironclad faerie memory to dole out favors and demand the ones owed to her. The healer who soothed the angry marks the passage of time scored over her small Court of 60.

Either way. Either Isadora or the Morrigu, would answer her brother Court. 

Let’s see if she still had her edge. 


	8. To whom to may concern

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! New semester, new classes to have panic attacks in!  
Also sorry for the short chapter. Have some ~buildup~ as we start moving to canon times!  
Had to take a little hiatus for my mental health. Got a new script tho, so that's nice.  
Take care of yourselves, readers!

Izuku is truly his mother’s son. To those who knew what that meant in terms of personality, it was unnerving to witness in real life, consequently resulting in some Faerie moving rapidly away from the eventual maelstrom _ -ahem- _ ascendance. Perhaps if you were smart enough, you’d had fled to the United States the moment Isadora gleefully presented her Only Son To Ever Exist, because even Faerie had standards, and it was quite apparent nothing of note was _ ever _going to happen there and best to fuck off whilst one still could. All that cursed land, you know. Bad for business. 

The reason why this has been brought to Rhys’ attention is the tooth-rotting scene in front of him. His Prince lies down in a puppy-pile of friends, all softly asleep like baby animals after a day of playing. Alas, these are human friends at least. Fumikage and the newly dubbed Tenya lie next to him in the warm sunbeam, both humans holding a hand that rest on Izuku’s belly. Toshi and the proper young lady Momo are seating, not truly asleep but dozing with cashmere blankets and Faerie cats purring on them. Their adorable chubby cheeks are disarming, especially so if a person like Rhys came from a culture that was _ murderously _protective of any and all Youth.

If one were without several key memories of the Queen, it would have been something to coo over, not that Rhys wasn’t a fully capable Inner Court member with the ability to multi-task. If one did perhaps know this particular behavior, one would have surely made a mental note that this sort of cuddling was _ very _ early courting, in the sense that by the time they were all of courting age, these five would already have _ strong _ ties to another. Another note that only one of these five precious beans was Fae, which was of a certain concern that perhaps the five weren't going to be strong because their- ahem- propensity for mortality-and ma’am- _ ma’am, _ if you’re concerned- _I’m most certainly not concerned but honestly one must think of the Bloodline? Oh, I see I was most terribly wrong, what a charming dose of UnSeelie selfishness your handsome son has- nothing to worry about! Whoopssorrygottoleavegoodbyeseeyou- _

So! This inherently was nothing to worry about. Izuku may have been the one to connect the other four, but one only needed to linger for an hour to smile at their interactions with each other. To have so many Childhood Friends- how lovely was that? They would grow hale and hearty from Faerie's fruit and marrow, a loving corruption that years ago touched their bones and nestled into them.

Why, then? Why so much for four mortals?

For one only needed to know Isadora’s favorite animal was the spider, not too long ago. Therefore- weren’t some things hereditary in simple nature? Something perhaps, like seeing the potential in others instinctively? To take the analogy further, it was really quite simple:

Izuku was in every sense Isadora’s Heir. 

Look at The Hidden Court.

Not like that. Not face value. _Deeper._

_ **Just like that. Do you see? I see that you see. You're too late, my darling. You are already in the parlor, and you will never come out again.** _

* * *

  
  


Izuku and Fumi sit in the Fae’s room one night, completed homework in a precarious pile off the side. So close to finishing their first year of middle school at Somei, they can finally start thinking and planning for high school-

Fumi is dead-set on becoming an underground hero, and his very first mission is to convince Izuku to join him. Or rather, to somehow convince Izuku to ask Isadora _ pretty please can I throw all the hard work you’ve done to keep me safe out the window? _

“Think, my dearest, darkest friend. Think!” He’s got a delicate grip on Izuku’s wrist, trying to once again decipher the unreadable look he’s being sent, Izuku almost on top of the other boy for how close they are. Fumikage wants his damn cuddle time, _ stat. _ “There’s Eraserhead and Slender teaching at UA- who knows what other masters of the night might deign to teach us.” 

“Mom would go full psycho mode if I got hurt- like, _ at all. _” Izuku weakly argues, “Do you think she’d let me ever near a hero school? There’s never been a Fae hero, Fumi. For a reason.”

They both know Izuku has the heart- has the brains for being a hero. Fumi knows the lengths of the notes Izuku writes about every person he comes across. From support gear to enchantments to costumes, how to reassure someone, first aid and-

-how to cause the most amount of damage before killing a fleshy human, how to create a waking nightmare so potent to make one seize. How to tell if someone wants to lie, body behaviour and how to influence a stranger. 

There are nights before he goes to sleep where he thinks about these things. Izuku’s alignment is yet to show up- but they all know it’s not the glittery, shiny Seelie what the media would favor. He imagines Izuku with All Might’s white bared teeth. 

That’s-

That is, erm, _ unsettling. _ That’s six extra pointy teeth humans don’t have. Well, perhaps it wouldn’t be _ too _bad-

Wait. All Might’s infamous spandex suit. In those garish colors. 

Okay, _ nope. _ Let’s put a cap on that. Yeap. Back in the box of Nightmare Fuel. Under the bed, now. Sliiiiiiiiide that in. Underground circuit it is!

Fumi gently tugs the wrist in his hand, getting his friend’s attention again. “I’ll plead on hands and knees if I must with your mother- appeal to her void-dark love of chaos and madness.” That gets Fumikage a pastel soft smile from Izuku, and desperately ignores the wiggle his stomach gives, Dark Shadow’s hidden snickering.

_ Not now, you traitorous creature. _

“No, Fumi.” Izuku sighs and gives up trying to pull away, crawls into his friend’s lap and rests his head on the other’s collarbone. “I’ll talk to her this weekend- though I might have to word it like we’d train as a Duo? Would that be okay with you, Fumi?”

Izuku stifles a grin as he listens to Fumi’s heart stutter. _ Whoops! _

* * *

  
  


Nezu, however ironically is a creature of habit. Part mouse, part arctic fox, throw in a little bear and cat and that’s what he is. He thinks. Mostly positive- 74%? That was a solid estimate. Very refined, thank you. Trypanophobia is _ certainly _a viable fear. No amount of therapy was going to fix that. He let himself chuckle, enjoying the way it made his whiskers twitch. Wouldn’t that be quite the non-disclosure agreement! 

Back to the issue at paw-

Planning. Nothing that survives contact with the enemy- or frenemy in this case. Still, something that needed to be done in copious amounts, or in 2 year’s time, his staff was going to go _ batshit. _ Or be politely stolen and returned Fae. Not that that was a _ bad _ thing per se. Just. More than one person can rule the world, Isadora!

So far he’s stolen three whiteboards and about thirty different colors in markers from various teachers. Aware but not terribly concerned about the rumor about a school ghost, for the noises in the rafters, he slides another pillow onto his chair. Desperate times called for goldenrod yellow next to pastel olive.

Maybe it’d bear fruit to ask Isadora to commission a line of ergonomic office chairs that catered to the more mutant quirks out there. Better color schemes for pillows and cushions, without a doubt. Or he could just as easily ship the idea off to the Support wing.

Two knocks at the door alert him. He supposes the whiteboards are good enough for now- at least they’re templated to easily accept new information as it comes in. And it will come in. 

“Ah, Eraserhead-san! Midnight-san! Oh, did Present Mic get caught up with a student? He’s essential to the meeting, after all. I thought I put that in the email?”

Aizawa sighs and vaguely gestures to Nemuri, yellow sleeping bag tucked under his arm and juice pouch in the other. “That blonde idiot was stalling with a couple of ungraded papers, Nemuri said she’d put a cockroach in his shower if he skips.” Nezu eyes Midnight’s sadistic grin and nods.

“So!” He says a little while after, addressing the room. Vlad King and Ectoplasm take the spots closest to the door, Cementoss and Snipe in the middle, leaving Midnight, Eraserhead, Recovery Girl and Present Mic near Nezu. “I’ve gathered you all here today to plan for the future. Two years, in fact!” He motions to the whiteboards surrounding the table, making sure no one had to strain their neck to look around.

Without preamble, he starts. “There’s an 86% chance Prince Izuku of the Hidden Court will apply to attend UA in two years. While he technically doesn’t have a Quirk, there’s no denying that he’s going to be a powerhouse like the rest of the Faerie Court-”

Surprisingly, it’s Snipe who interrupts him. How peculiar! “Hold it, there’s no way their Queen will let her kiddo be a hero. You know her stance-”

“-On daytime heroics, yes! An astute observation, but she does like the underground circuit! Pro Hero Dread King was miraculously healed from four bullet shots to his shoulders, Eraserhead?” He claps his paws together, privately enjoying the way the man hunches his shoulders a little from the attention.

“Healed without a trace.” Eraserhead grumbles, dropping the empty juice pouch on the floor and grabbing another from _ somewhere. _“‘King was pretty nervous about it, but there hasn’t been any inclination that she wants something from him.”

Nezu watches Ectoplasm and Vlad King shift in their seats, and meets eyes with Snipe. The gunslinger has a nervous look to his eye- _ what could that be about? _

What could Peacekeeper’s owner be hiding?

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note:  
If you caught the crossover, yes.  
Yes, I'm going there.  
And a few other places. A few cameos.  
If Faerie was a dimensional transplant, who's to say they're the only ones?


	9. Chat Fic Chapter #2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edit to chapter 8: Snipes' gun is called Peacekeeper, not Peacemaker.
> 
> -  
Voidbirb- Tokoyami   
YaMOM- Yaoyorozu  
Mrrrp- Shinsou  
PleaseStop- Iida  
MamasBoy- Izuku  
-  
Zeus- Toshinori Yagi  
Athena- Nezu  
Persephone- Todoroki Rei  
Hades- Todoroki Eiji  
Poseidon- Satamata Kugo  
Hermes- Hakamata Tsunagu

** _MamasBoy had changed the chat room name to: RIP FUMI_ **

**MamasBoy: **can I get a hhhhhh

**MamasBoy: **f in the chat for fumi

** _MamasBoy has logged off_ **

** _Several users have logged on_ **

**Mrrrp: **f

**YaMOM: **f

**PleaseStop: **Why does Fumikage-kun need to rest in peace, Izuku? 

**Mrrrp: **tenya pls ur killing the ~vibes~

** _Voidbirb has logged on_ **

**Voidbirb: **ah, i can finally be put to rest

**Voidbirb: **izu youre cordially invited to meet me in the pit

**Mrrrp: **did izu just

**Mrrrp: **gdi

**Mrrrp: **he logged off right after he changed the chat naem

**YaMOM: **naem

**Voidbirb: **naem

**PleaseStop: **Izuku-kun your unexplained comments are worrying! You must be more precise when leaving such ominous messages!

** _MamasBoy has logged on._ **

**MamasBoy: **ỹ̸̡̘ơ̵͉̺̪̥̮̓ù̴͇̫'̶̳̮͕͍̰̄́͠͠l̸̨̛̜͇̩̱̲̠͊̆̈́̅̍l̴̨͕̻̰̥̹͉̜̾̑ ̵͎̫̼͈̋̀͘͝b̷̙͒̔̈̑ę̸̇ ̶͈̙̘̎͒͋͝f̵͖̕͜i̷̡͇͎̠̊̐n̷͔̟̙̟̗̯̮̙̋ĕ̶̫͇͓̹͙͒̆ ̸̢̪̆̈͋̇͠b̵̛̻̰̅͋͋͛̔̕͘b̸̼̩̖̙̩̄̈́̀̌̍

**MamasBoy: l̴̯͓̀̋̂̈́͆**m̶̩̠̞̤̊̽͐̎̏ͅạ̵̙̦̮͙̩̫̙͐̇͆o̴̳͇̺̩̐̎̌ ̶̣̐̈̓͌͝f̵̜̓̈́͗̇̽̎͝ọ̶̘̻̅͘r̴̡̡̰̺̮̝͋͂̾̅g̶̛̘̙̪͉̠͉͒̂̈́̒͆ő̴̢͓̼͚̯͆t̷̨̧̫͔͉̱̼̾̏̔͝ͅ ̵̜̱̯̯͇̞̺̊͒̈́͝i̴̹̗̺͕̦̯̐̇͐ ̴̗̱̟̪̭̰̈́͒͑w̸̲̱̮̺̽͒ȧ̴̛̱̈́̂̿̏͝ş̶̳͊̊̈́͂̄͊͋͠ ̴̦̰͇͌͒̈́̍į̸͚̭̭̹͉͕̈́͂̈́n̵͚͕̘̟̳̣̫͝ ̸̯͍̼̱͈͋̽t̴̛̟͕̭̑͗̊͑̈́͘͝ĥ̴̡̢͓̼̤͚̖̺̊̇͛̈́͝͝ë̶̛̛̥͇̭͖͇͖̪͈́̓̈́̄̈́͝ ̴̜̯͗̂͆̕͠b̴̞͇̗̺̜̱̈â̸̯̱̅̈́̀́͑̈̆ç̴̧̡̖̍̾͑k̴̨̜̰̞͘y̵̢̬̪̤̳̹ä̵͇̠͎̻͚̦̺́r̷̝̗̩̯͌͋̀̅̅̒͘d̵͈̼̯̦̦͔̅͋̆̽̓̋͌ ̶̦̻̙̹͓̰̋̌̊͒̌͆͝ͅo̸͓̞̙̲̞̻̟̜̓̏̓ń̵̺̠̙̲̃̐̒͗ͅę̴̜͓̟͓̝̍̈́̓̓͊ ̵̡̧̢͙̪̄s̶̖̲̙̝͎̘̗̈́̈̽̆͑̀e̷̘͚̹͒̆̾͜͝č̸̠͔̰͓̞̺̍̕͘ͅͅ

**YaMOM: **I-

**PleaseStop: ** _ please read my username _

**Mrrrp: **anyone else seeing it kinda glittery

**Voidbirb: **mine is blood red

**Mrrrp: **fuckin edgelord mcgee over here

**YaMOM: **I...it looks like it’s dripping from my phone screen

**MamasBoy: **ŵ̷̛̳͑͐ĕ̶̡̼̻̬̄̈́r̵͖͉̠̓ẹ̵̖͚͙̉̒ ̸̲̮̿̑t̸͕̔͝r̸̡͉̈́̓y̴͍͐̄i̴̯͑͘n̶̬̩͝g̸̨̎͗̃ ̴͎͖͊̎̈t̴̙͔̽̌̓ǫ̶̎ ̸̺̤̲̀̿̌͘ͅp̵̢̺̜̟̿͘͝u̴̯̩̪̎ͅt̸̞̗͋ ̵̙̜̝̎̎͝w̷̡̠̬͂̐͝i̸̜̙͙͋̄f̸̢͍̠͛͐̓i̷̥̻̟͐ ̸̧͔̤̝̒͊͒͂o̴̧̊̂u̵̞̟͔͌̆͜t̸̜̞̥͎͋̎̉͠ ̵̢̣̱̬ḅ̶̳̯̉ẵ̴͈̪̾͜c̸̢͚̥̬̓̆̈̅ḵ̸̃̐

**MamasBoy: **m̸̳͍̒͑́͘ó̷͔m̴̤͇̟͑̀͆ś̸̯̑̀ ̸̪̗͒͗͜ǧ̸̜̫̟̪ö̵͍̘́͠n̴̛̰̪̈́̇͆͜n̶̨̿̔̃͒a̴̖̰̘͘ ̷̫̎̓̚ľ̶͙̼̿è̵̢̫t̶̡̟̊͂̌͜ ̷͈̈m̶͌͐ͅę̴̱͓̐̇ ̸͇̯͒̎̔b̵͙̅̕ë̸͙ ̶̰̟͚͆ã̶͇̙̐͝ ̸̡̎h̶͓͎̟̳̉̅e̵̟̒̎͆ȑ̸̼͎͙̗o̸̗̻̕ ̶̭͈̹́b̴͍̍̋̇̂t̶̨̨̖̣̐w̶̲͆͊

**MamasBoy: **ṳ̴̞̑n̷̲̦̗͛͋͆d̷̝̗͛͌ͅe̷̹͖͈͌̚r̷̖̓g̷̱͚͌r̶̦̠̹̄̔̆ȍ̵̠̹̆̏ů̶̈́ͅn̴̤̮͒͠d̴͇͆̓̀ ̶̞̙͗c̵̺̑ị̷̲̱̒̚̚ŕ̶̻̏̃͜c̷̲̐u̴̢̼͈͆i̴͕̙͒͗͛t̵͔̱̂ ̷̧̔̐͛ȍ̷̥̋̇ņ̷̳̭̎̋͝l̵̮̪̐̍̓ỵ̴̢̗̐̕ ̷͇̥̳̿ţ̷̧̛̿͜ḧ̷̠̣ō̴̢̆

** _PleaseStop had changed their name to STOP._ **

** _Voidbirb has changed MamasBoy’s name to ChaosBoy._ **

**ChaosBoy: **n̸̡̰̺͗́͋̑̎͊͊̈̈́̚͘̕͘ï̵̟̙̐͛́̀̍̕͜c̴͕̈͛͛͂͒̄̈͌͗͌̓̓̍̈͠ĕ̵̢̧͚̦̙̞̮̱̘̪͔̯̈́̄͒̽̇̅́̋̊̃̅̑̔͝ͅͅͅ

**Mrrrp: **SHE SAID YOU COULD BE A HERO

**Mrrrp: **ISADORA SAID YES???

**Mrrrp: **SWEET KAMI

**YaMOM: **oh my goodness izuku!!!!! How did you convince her? Seriously!

**ChaosBoy: ** ̵I̸ ̸ told h̵e̵r̶ ̷i̸’̵d̴ ̶aim f̴o̵r̸ ̷u̸a̴ ̴a̴n̸d̸ ̴g̶o̵ underg̷r̷o̴u̵n̵d̶ right a̵f̵t̴e̵r̸!̸

**ChaosBoy: **̸a̶l̷s̶o̶ ̵told h̸e̵r̵ ̸f̶͍̦̘̈́͂ȕ̸̯͕m̸̱͕̔̈́i̵̗̯͌͘ and ̴i̴ ̵ would be a̴ ̸d̶u̵o̴

**Voidbirb: **You

**Voidbirb: **truly wish to stand side-by-side as we face this dark and lonely road?

**ChaosBoy: **I have t̸h̴i̶s̷ ̵t̴h̵i̵n̷g̵ where ̷i̸ ̸c̵a̴n̸t̶ ̸l̴i̵e̷ in cas̵e̸ ̸y̵o̶u̴ ̵d̵idnt ̵̱̭̾͒ ̷̣͖̎k̴̙͎̓̐ṅ̶̥̝̝̈́͘ọ̴̙͒ŵ̴͕̻͒͝

**Mrrrp: **thats pretty homosexual i dig it

**STOP: **You are aiming for UA as well? 

**STOP: **That is

**STOP: **

**STOP: **Apologies my friends! Tensei wishes to speak with me! I will speak with you all tomorrow! SLeEP Well!

** _STOP has logged off._ **

**YaMOM: **100 yen on him bluescreening

**Mrrrp: **watch us all get put in the same class

**Mrrrp: **dear kami poor future-sensei

**Voidbirb: **ah, he has realized nowhere is safe from the emerald-haired fae combination. All Hail.

**Voidbirb: **Izuku your mom

**Voidbirb: **for an entire page

**Voidbirb: **sent this

**Voidbirb: |ʘ‿ʘ)╯ **

**YaMOM: **not many things scare me but

**YaMOM: **that is, and excuse my language, fucking cursed. 

**Mrrrp: **'hey kiddo i just wanna talk'

**  
ChaosBoy: **aw damnit rhys fixed the glitching

**ChaosBoy: **im wheezin g fumi shes just messing with you i p r o m i s e 

**ChaosBoy: **but fumi? Bring some fucking honey next time you come over

**ChaosBoy: **just in case

  
  


* * *

Decrypting

.

Decrypting

.

Decrypted

.

Verifying GS-Silver clearance

.

Verifying

.

Log Opened

.

>Enter

>Change Username

“Hecate”

“Are you sure you want this one- okay, ow! Stop with the hitting! You’re in!”

>Username saved

.

Welcome to the chatroom! Please see the Rules.

_ Chatroom: We don’t get paid enough -Gang Orca _

**Athena: **All Might-san, I have a question.

~User ‘Hecate’ Has Entered The Chatroom~

**Hermes: **Who

**Hermes: **Did we just get hacked into?

**Zeus: **Hecate? Which one is Hecate?

**Athena: **Goddess of magic, crossroads, moon, ghosts, witchcraft, necromancy

**Athena: **Welcome to the server, Hecate

**Poseidon: **hacked….again

**Hades: **another 1000 yen for the jar 

**Hecate: **y̸̲̅͑̉o̶͓̬͋ú̴̥͈̕ ̷̡̾͠ṇ̷́e̶͚̹͕̪͂͐̿͘e̷͖͉̿d̴̘̜̺̪͗̓ ̶͙̍a̶̬̩̺̤̽͑͌ ̶͇̿͒b̷̟͑͑ȅ̴̠͋ť̴̲͜t̷͎̤̍ẹ̸͔̭̍͛̚r̴͇̳͒̔͝ ̴͔̙͔͖̓f̴͉͍̓̾̓̀i̴͈̺̒̿̓r̴͇̭̣̃̈́e̶̼͑̊̄w̷̧̩͎̼̍͂̈̕ä̵̡͖̝́l̴͚̣̫͒l̷̟̜̳̂

**Poseidon: **I really, really don’t like that.

**Hades: **

**Hades: **is it purple for anyone else?

**Athena: **Hecate, how did you enter this chatroom without a clearance?

**Hecate: ** _ Determination. _

**Hecate: **I have GS-Iridium clearance, by the way.

**Hecate: **Do you have that one, Athena?

**Poseidon: ** _ who the hell are you _

**Zeus: **Only the top 10 and a few others have that clearance. Please identify yourself immediately.

**Hecate: **Oh, I am not a hero. Officially, that is. Your little bill made sure that couldn’t happen.

**Zeus: **The bill about severe ptsd disqualifying applicants? I can reach out to a few doctors if youre up to qualify!

**Hecate: **Charming, but not that one.

**Hecate: **The one about Fae not being able to qualify if they are over a certain age. What was it, 100 years old?

**Hades: **

**Persephone: **who the hell are you to talk to All Might like that?

**Hecate: ** Todoroki Rei, yes? You must be so _ proud _ of your children.

**Hecate: **Mm. You should be kinder to them. Just some advice.

**Hermes: **I think I know who it is.

**Hermes: **I appreciate your letter, ma’am.

**Athena: **Oh you’re quite correct, Hermes! 

**Zeus: **I don’t get it. Are they a fairy sympathizer?

**Poseidon: **just got it

**Poseidon: **i really liked your comments on mutant quirks. 

**Poseidon: **for obvious reasons

**Hecate: **You are both welcome, think nothing of it. 

**Hecate: **Ah, I love and support the lgbt+ community of course. For shame, you know better than to use slurs.

**Zeus: **That’s not what i meant and you know it

**Persephone: **did you just threaten me? I’m the number 3 hero. You couldn’t even scratch me.

**Athena: **Iceheart, that isn’t someone you challenge. 

**Hermes: **

**Poseidon:** _fear.jpeg_

**Zeus: **the fairy, the fae, whatever. those immortal assholes.

**Hecate: **Want me to toss down a torch, All Trash? It must be dark in that hole you are digging.

**Hermes: **Do we stop this?

**Hades: **...charity fight?

**Hermes: **We still need All Might alive

**Hermes: **I cannot believe I said that

**Hermes: **this is where my intern would say ‘what a time to be alive’

**Athena: **Was there a reason you entered the chat, ma’am?

**Hecate: **Besides this peak entertainment?

**Hecate: **I need to send Oracle a warning about the bust they are attempting tomorrow.

**Hecate: **Their spy is crooked.

**Athena: **We need proof.

~Hecate has sent images to the chatroom~

_Wow(1) _

_RealSubtle(2) _

_ObliviousManchild(3) _

_Really?LikeReallyReally?(4) _

**Hecate: **One of mine caught them.

**Poseidon: **Im not gonna argue about the topic change but damn those are clear pics

**Hecate: **Is that proof enough, Athena?

**Athena: **Yes. Your services are, as always, appreciated.

**Hecate: **I know. Goodbye for now, humans. Athena, I’ll see you soon~!

**Hecate: **ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

**Hecate: **ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

**Hecate: **ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

**Hecate: **ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ  
  
---  
  
~Hecate has left the chatroom~

**Athena: **That, heroes, was the Faerie Queen Isadora.

**Zeus: **

**Zeus: ** _motherfucker_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I've changed the Todoroki family dynamic.
> 
> To clear things up! Nezu and Isadora are friendly rivals as of right now. She's reaching out to interact with him after leaving him be after his rescue. 
> 
> Next Chapter:  
Shinsou backstory!  
Izuku and Isadora talk about Wrath(TM)  
And many more things!


	10. Backstory, Foreshadow, and Cliffhanger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, yall!  
Next few chapters are going to be a little more serious than normal- we're hitting canon timeline, peeps!  
My college went online so OOF this means faster updates.
> 
> That said, have fun reading!

“Isadora-san? Can I, uh, ask you something?” 

It’s a late summer’s night at the Hidden Court. The veranda doors to the garden are wide open, bringing in the softest of breezes and the scent of honeysuckle. Hitoshi and Isadora sit in bean bag chairs with velvet covers, both on laptops finishing up work. Hitoshi carefully peeks over his computer after he asks, fidgeting his fingers as she hums a response. He waits until she finishes typing whatever out and closes the laptop gently, putting it on the floor to give him her full attention.

“What’s up, kiddo?” She asks softly, green eyes dark in the low amber light above them. Isadora always does that around him- speaks softly. Gently. He’d be insulted if Izuku hadn’t told him it was just her being at ease. “I’m all ears for you. Don’t be shy.”

_ Like cats, ‘Toshi. Imagine we’re all just cats. Cats are comfy in their favorite spot, right? Home is our favorite spot. Our favorite people in our favorite place. It brings out the best in us. Now scoot over and lean on me! _

Hitoshi hurriedly closes his own laptop and slides it to the ground, giving him space to curl up and stare at the hardwood. It’s easier to not look at her. He has to ask.  _ Has  _ to.

“It’s been a couple of years since I uh, met you all. I mean you’re all- all like amazing and I’m  _ happy _ \- sometimes I want to ask? If I ask you- I’m scared you’re gonna be mad-” Oh no, he can feel it bubbling up, throat clicking. A dozen or two midnight thoughts coming up. His hand flies up to grip the back of his neck, the cold hand against his burning neck.  _ Why? Why are you so nice? What do you want? Who are you all? What’s going to happen to me now?” _

_ Why did you save me? _

“Why did you save me?” He doesn’t care how his voice cracks. Can’t tell it sounds wounded and desperate. Definitely doesn’t see how her eyes go wide in realization, and then go between heartbreak and anger.

Silence. And that makes it worse, the longer it goes on. There’s a ringing in his ears, faint and high pitched. He squeezes his eyes shut. Fuck, he’s fucked up. Shouldn’t have asked, shouldn’t have wondered, she’s going to kick him out and he’ll be back to that miserable place, locked in the closet that smells like mildew and the crackling lightbulb and he’ll never eat so good again no more soft cats and blankets and he’ll be cold without all the hugs and smiles he’ll be cold _ coldcold. _

A  **warm** hand brushes his, and he grips it tight unwittingly. Can’t tell if he keens at the thoughts petering away. Did he say that all out loud? No no _ nononono. _

“-ey, hey, Toshi? Aw, sweetie. I’m not mad, I promise. Wasn’t expecting it, to be honest. You just surprised me. Got one up on this old woman, hun.”

Gentle, again, as she puts her other  ** _warmwarmwarm_ ** hand on his cheek, thumb barely felt as he feels her brush away a few angry tears. Hitoshi cracks his eyes open a little bit, and fights the urge to curl up even tighter. His best friend’s mom looks so  _ concerned _ , crouching in front of him. She watches him for a moment, a sad little smile on her face. After a moment and his panic eases back the tiniest bit, he again feels her thumb trace his knuckles, not bothered by his death grip.

“Do you remember when you called out to me?” Hitoshi tries to nod. ”The dream with the meadow? You cried and hugged me, like it was the first good dream you’d ever had.”

He doesn’t want to be a pity case. Is this what it is? He feels his eyes burn hot again in shame at the thought. Nevermind his friends abandoning him,  _ this  _ is the fear. Isadora continues on anyways in that sotto voice, her fingertip just barely grazing his temple. 

“When Naomasa and I came the next day to get you out of there, I didn’t see a young boy who was scared and worthless. You were reluctant to hope, sure. That’s natural. I saw, instead, a boy who was ready to try  _ anything  _ to be out of that disgusting place. How could I not be protective?

Toshi,  _ kiddo _ . If I could adopt you I’d have done it in the first week. We barely got by with Nao standing as your foster parent.” He notes her voice goes chilly in the next words. “Your caseworker is in our pocket, you’ll  _ never  _ go anywhere you don’t want to.” He feels her forehead tap his messy hair, and it clicks.

Oh.

_ Oh.  _

Hitoshi looks up at her watery eyes, and slides forward to wrap his free hand around her shoulders, sniffling his tears in hair that smells like the flowers.

“I’m really happy I’m here.” He chokes out with a stuffy nose, taking solace that she can’t see him. 

His only response is the tightening of her hug, blind to her blinking away a few tears of her own.

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


_ Mathair  _ says wrath is the little voice in your head that whispers ` _ are you not  _ ** _tired_ ** _ of being nice? _ She says you can feel it in your jaw, in your ears, even in your eyes. A bubbling sensation, heating up the blood in your veins. When you stop being the  _ fake-soft-sweet _ Fae and pull the veneer off to reveal the  _ c̷̨̓r̷̢̨̈́e̷̲͎͊͘a̴̰̕ṭ̸̃͋ṷ̴̒ȑ̵̥ë̸̬͜ _ underneath.

They speak of it in the garden, surrounded by butterflies of every shade. Here, he smells faerie roses and foxgloves. Here, they’ve shed their glamour. Izuku looks at his dear mother, the Morrigu, and wonders when his hair will grow dark and eyes flash ice-blue.

She smiles when he asks this, and says in due time. Now, onto the lesson.

She says there’s two types of anger. Izuku watches in rapt attention as she holds her hands out. From one, a soft ball of red light emerges. It doesn’t look too solid, radiating a soft glow. Mom says that’s normal anger. Hot enough to burn, maybe scar. The anger he feels when Tenya calls to say his parents won’t let him come over. When Toshi talks about his past homes. When Momo cries and repeats the cruel words her parents say to each other. 

Mother says that sometimes anger hides other things, like sadness. Anger and jealousy. He’s felt multiple emotions at once, of course. It’s just that nothing has happened in his life to make him feel so much of the negative stuff. He needs to get a handle on this type of stuff if he’s going to be a hero!

She holds out the other hand, and from this one comes out an obsidian fractal, spinning and jerking around violently. It’s so dark it almost looks like it’s absorbing the light around it, like a miniature black hole. He looks between the two, and hums a sound of clarity. Mother pauses to peer closely at it, eyes unreadable as she rolls it around in her hand.

**W̷̛̦̻̰̐̐̀̓̈́̾̑̈́͘̕͠ṛ̷̱̻̬̜̦͕͍̼̙̫̭̉̔͋̈́͌͛̔̚͘å̴̖̜̟̻̘̠̪̈́̔̌͋̋͌͊͠ṫ̸̢̼̘̽͝ĥ̴̛̪̗̼͊͐̾̚**. She says it fondly, smiling softly at it. _Fearg fiadhaich, _she repeats in Gaelic. _Wild anger._ Wrath gets shit done, dearest son. When you’re done _playing nice_, when you _cannot _hold back the bloodthirst, when you look at your enemy, feel that last bit of control** s̴l̵i̸p̸** away. Both are so pretty, are they not? Humans hold themselves back from it, like weaklings. So many delicious emotions to experience, and they avoid the ripe fruit. Wrath is intoxicating. You can make a little home for your soul in wrath. In the bloodlust and rage you can feel more alive than _a̶n̷y̷t̴h̸i̶n̸g̵ _before. 

So let yourself feel the rage. Mom looks at him, withdrawing the two creations back into herself and walking over to him. That’s just one more difference between us and them. Us Fae don’t have the capacity to bottle emotion up for long. Always acknowledge what you’re feeling- even act on it if that’s what gets your desired results. There’s no room in this Court for putting one emotion over the other. Be selfish one day, selfless the next. You’re not tied to those silly strict morals. 

Izuku fiddles with the dangling charm of her bracelet, and wonders if that was the answer he was looking for. 

Will it get him in trouble with the other hero students? He asks Mom this, and they both giggle after a moment of eye contact. 

It won’t. She says this with authority, smoothing a strand of her son’s hair back. Well, it won’t with any of the important, useful humans. The ones that don't mind you are the ones you need to keep. But you’re already miles ahead on that part, sweetie.

He thinks of his friends- happy and caring about most of his friends. 

He’d think of Tenya like that too, if he stopped being so wishy-washy about hanging out with him alone. It’s beginning to get on his nerves. 

* * *

  
  


The day Izuku truly loses his temper is the same day he understands why his Mother  _ loathes  _ All Might. He also loses a shoe, an opportunity, and a bet.

What he gains is: one contact card, a new trick, the admiration of a crowd, and a greater understanding and appreciation of his family.

It starts out like this: 

Izuku volunteers at a soup kitchen regularly. Every Sunday morning he goes out to this house that’s- well, dilapidated isn’t enough to describe it. Rhys would probably sum it up as a shithole. Anyways, Izuku goes to the women’s shelter on Sunday morning to serve a hot breakfast to the homeless or disenfranchised. The shelter is doing much better than it was- his mom had taken one uncomfortable look at it and whipped out her checkbook.

He’s only a few feet in the door when he’s spotted by Fujimori Ayako, one of the younger women who frequent the shelter. A domestic abuse victim, if he remembers correctly. The woman dyed her hair platinum just recently, judging by the whiff of ammonia as she approached him. He’s barely shorter than her with his normal glamour on, much to everyone’s amusement. 

“Kiddo!” She goes in for a quick hug and unknowingly smears a touch of concealer on him. Thankfully he’s gotten used to the acrid smell of hair dye. “One of yours was just here fixing up some of the girls! Wearing some sort of flower dress?” That must be Priscillia, then. “She’s such a sweetheart, even brought in some seeds for the planters outside.” Izuku takes in her beaming face, and feels the corners of his mouth lift as well. 

“Hi to you too, Fujimori-san.” He laughs a bit at her exuberance. “That sounds like Auntie Pris, always one step ahead. She’s a spring Fae, if you’d believe it!” They laugh (well, she laughs and he hides his teeth behind a hand).

Cooking human food is...well…

It’s not his favorite task. Oh, he knows the kitchen is the best place for gossip. Izuku’s heard things about heroes themselves breaking laws, villains saving bystanders, and at least a rumor that Kamino’s Police force is  _ lacking _ .

Hunh. Maybe he should tell Uncle Nao about that. Trade his Mom the info for that new game that came out? Oh, but Momo had been eyeing that designer scarf for so long...

So Izuku does his job, chopping up whatever vegetable the ladies put in front of him. He smiles politely when they thank him for helping out- internally reminding himself that they mean no insult by it. The hidden Fae blade hums against his hipbone and calms him down enough.

The morning blurs into the afternoon. They eat, they clean up, and too soon all the ladies are crowded in front of the television . All Might smiles in front of a podium, trademark ( _ terrifying _ , Izuku thinks) smile plastered on. Izuku looks for a single strand of hair out of place, a fleck of dust. Any sign of imperfection. It looks like a press conference of sorts, but to him it looks like a King addressing a Court. If he just imagines that blinding, scary smile as a type of Glamour and the other heroes behind him All Might’s Inner Court... 

Izuku silently makes his way out. He recognizes the building the press conference was at.

Truth be told, Izuku knows  _ exactly  _ how his mother has shaped the public’s opinion of him. There’s a video somewhere on the internet of a butterfly on his 3 year-old self’s nose which made viral  _ headlines _ . A dozen-  _ thank Danu it’s only a dozen- _ photos of him throughout the years being adorable. He’s done his own work on that as well, not counting his earlier efforts. Highway clean-ups, community events in poorer districts. Animal shelters are his favorite, though. Izuku isn’t really allowed to make a verified Tweeter account yet but by the harrowed look on Rhys’s face that might not be a  _ bad _ thing.

In short, he knows Japan at least finds him ‘stinkin’ adorable’, as Fianna once said. The dichotomy of his mother being  _ unnerving _ on a good day to his demure politeness leaves the media gobbling it up. Mother-son bonding wins over the parents, his extracurriculars quiet the conservatives, and just about everyone else salivates when they show off (either with magic or swimsuit photos, which only confirms that humans on the whole are  _ not  _ subtle).

That being said, Izuku sends his mom a quick text before hopping on the train to All Might’s Agency.

  
  


**HereHeComes:**

Be back later, gonna do something stupid

**IwantToSeeMyLittleBoy:**

OwO have fun kiddo, don’t do anything I wouldn’t!

**HereHeComes:**

Possibly antagonizing a top 10 hero?

**IwantToSeeMyLittleBoy:**

...I’ll allow it! Try snagging a reporter to video it  ಸ‿ಸ


	11. Catalyst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late chapter.  
To make up for it, have 10 pages.  
*laughs nervously*  
Alternate Name: Are ya winning, son?

Izuku steps out of the cab he’d hailed from the train station, about 3 blocks from ‘All Star’- All Might’s pompously named Agency. Looks like All Might is dragging out the conference. Izuku isn’t that surprised. The sky is littered with wispy clouds moving fast, so he doesn’t feel nervous about calling out the Zephyrs. One brushes his cheek softly, settling in his hair. The other wraps around the shell of his ear like an earring, bubbling a soft greeting at the two. Soft blue and yellow mists flow out of them, imperceptible to the naked human eye. Yet another happy reminder he’s never truly alone- comforting, to him. 

Even from here he can already smell the humans congregating. Sweat and emotion ranging from ecstatic joy, to longing, to jealousy. Izuku privately thinks it’s odd not to smell anything more negative than that. Jealousy can be so many things, after all.

“_ Can you bring some rain clouds to me, ladies? _ ” Izuku asks in Gaelic to one of the Zephyrs softly, “ _ We’re gonna need enough to soak my hair down. _”

_ ‘Just Glamour it, Prince.’ _ The one in his hair murmurs back, _ ‘Make like a flower and w̶ ̸i̸ ̵l̵ ̵t̵’ _

“_ Nah. I’m gonna need the ‘half-drowned kitten’ look _ . _ Could you show me your subtlety, lovely ladies? _ ” He looks at the crowd with no small amount of nervous energy. Time to debut to the media, it seemed. The knife on his hip, hidden by his sky-blue collared shirt. One, two, three rings adorn fingers, two for his love of _ s h i n y _ , one imbued with _ ádh mór, good luck. _

While Izuku has much to learn about being _ Tuatha Dé Danaan, _ Glamour comes naturally- or as naturally as it can when being surrounded by skyscrapers _ . _He calls it up over his hair to make it fluffier than normal. Eyes, just a shave too big. Ears, though, are longer than normal, with a knife-sharp tip. That last bit of stubborn baby fat to his cheeks. Lastly, he cowls it over his shoulders, making him seem vulnerable by thinning the broadness. As he walks towards the commotion, he makes sure to peek at his reflection off of storefront windows. 

By the sweet Goddess, he looks pathetic.

_ ‘Boy, baby boy~’ _ his tagalongs sing, making him blush. _ ‘~Little baby Fae/Go make some waves/Maybe you can stay/We’ll take them all awayyy-’no, that last bit doesn’t fit. North-northeast, help meee~!’ _

He power walks the last few blocks and starts slipping his way past the gaggle of civilians. He’s looking for a specific news crew- Hermes Inc. Momo recommended them- her family used them for last-minute press conferences. Momo added that they’re used to more devious children. He’s able to spot one member, who’s only in a t-shirt, golden caucedeus almost glimmering under the sun. Perhaps he should warn the man to grab a jacket.

Izuku hears a few sharp camera workers whisper his and his mother’s name, and smiles as much as he dares with this facade on. The crowd is hyping up again as the human on stage- some PR woman- wraps up. He just barely manages to tug on the sleeve of the man, and steals one last deep breath before cranking the glamour’s intensity up.

“Sir?” The man takes only a second to recognize him, or at least the parts not under his sunglasses do. “Um, my friend Yaoyorozu mentioned you, and er, said you could help me, if uh-” 

The man takes his sunglasses off to reveal bronze eyes, grinning wickedly. “You’re Isadora’s kid. Lemme guess, you want a camera aimed at you?” He looks behind the child to the podium, then back at the kid, grin fading a bit. “Oh, _ no. _Your mom know you’re here?”

Izuku shakes his head. “I know h-him and Mom do not, well, get along. I want to, to, ask him something. About, um, being a hero.”

The man looks at him in disbelief before leaning down to whisper at him. “This a political move or personal?” Izuku pauses for a moment before nodding slightly, hunching his shoulders. The cameraman goes pale, probably at the thought of getting in between a literal Faerie Queen and the Number One Hero. “Okay- _ fuck. _ Ah, sorry! Okay, if you’re half as crazy as your mom this’ll give me enough to pay for my wedding. Give me a cue, kiddo. I’ll tell my agency to livestream. You can call me Taikada, Izuku. That’s how you all- _ shit, _it’s starting!”

Momo definitely undersold this company. Make that _ two _fancy scarves owed. And if this goes well, maybe a little bit of magic. He feels a little bad at the sight of the man’s sweaty face, but then he smells a hint of excitement wafting off. 

“_ -believe I’m doing this. _ ” He hears the man mutter as he readies his camera. “ _ Oh well, maybe they’ll promote me. Or fire me. Right before my wedding. _”

“All will be well, Taikada-sensei!” Izuku smiles at him brightly. “If you are fired because of aiding me, I am whole-heartedly sure Mother will pay for your wedding!”

“Dear Kami, drop the -sensei. That’s just- no.”

Taikada, even amidst all the cheering and clapping that welcomes All Might to the stage, hears a faint song on the wind that’s been picking up. He strains his ear to hear it, for some reason. Unaware that a Faerie Prince watches him with lidded eyes, with just a bit of tooth showing from his smile. 

** _l̵̤̊i̴̳̔t̶͚̃ṭ̴̉l̶̪͐ë̸͉́ ̶̥̄b̴̤͊a̵͔͆-b̶̙͌y̶͇̋ ̶̟̃f̷̞͑a̵̦̍ȅ̶̱_ **

** _̵̄͜_ **

** _̴̼̉g̸̺͐o̸̠͑ ̵͚̓m̴͇͠a̸̢͘k̷̺̿e̵̼̐ ̷̹̎s̵͙̕õ̷͕m̵̯͒ê̸̹ ̸̥̓w̴̝̓a̵̻̍v̸͕̏e̴͕͊s̴͖̿_ **

** _̴̯̅_ **

** _̶̮̇ḿ̵̨ả̵̺ȳ̴̻b̴̲̑ė̴̼ ̸̗̃y̶̭̿ő̷̫u̷̥͋ ̵̤͋c̷̙̈a̵͍͋n̷͉͘ ̶̜̌s̴̤̀t̵̗̒a̸̼y̵̘͐_ **

** _̷̳̐_ **

** _̵̟͘ä̸͓n̸̻͛d̷̻ ̵̛̟s̷͇̑h̸̜̄o̷͚̎w̴͍͐ ̵̯̌t̸̰̿h̵̜͠ė̵̶̛̥̮ḿ̵̨ ̵̳͐w̷̞̔h̴̩̐a̸̡̓t̶͕͑ ̴̳̊ỷ̶̭o̶͈̓ṷ̷͒ ̵̜̐c̴̱Ra̶̯̓Ve̵̛̥_ **

* * *

You are a citizen watching the press conference. You’re just happy to be here, seeing All Might _ in the flesh! _ Even though he’s not your favorite hero, it’s still All Might. He waves to the crowd with that million-watt smile, waving and giving thumbs-up to the cameramen. There’s not even a police barrier there, it’s so _ inspiring _to see him so unafraid of villians- I mean, who’s stupid enough to attack the literal Number One Hero in broad daylight? He’d save you all in a blink! No, not even a blink!

It takes a few moments for everyone to quiet down, much to All Might’s laughter. And well, that just starts up the cameras and cheering again. You take a look behind you to see how big the crowd’s grown, and you see a little kid with a bird’s nest of green hair. Early teens at least, but the boy seems a little upset at how much taller everyone else is as he strains to see the hero. He looks kind of familiar, actually. Weird.

The boy catches your eyes and his face lights up, pointing to his chest and then over to you. Oh, what a sweet kid. It takes some gusto to brave a crowd this big! Unwittingly, you wave him over and watch him tap a cameraman on the shoulder to point to where you are. The kid’s father, maybe? That could explain why you feel like you should know him. 

By the time he makes it over to you, All Might is finishing up posing. 

“Thank you ver-very much! This i-is so _ exciting-ohmygosh _ it’s _ All Might!” _ Blurts out of the kid’s mouth. 

_ Holy shit this kid is adorable. _

**“** ** _AHA- I’M TRULY GLAD TO SEE ALL MY FANS ON SUCH A FINE DAY!”_ **

_ “Tokyo News here- there are pictures of you exiting the National Diet a few days ago. All Might, are you-” _

_ “Kyaaaa~ All Might-sama!” _

_ “Heroes Monthly- Are you still in contact with I-island for your costume-” _

_ “Mustafu Daily- Are you going to The Hidden Court’s fundraiser for-” _

_ “ _ ** _ABSOLUTELY NOT, YOUNG MAN.”_ **

The crowd is dead silent, save for the reporter paling under All Might’s stern face. You look at the kid next to you, and it clicks as you take in the child’s appearance. His name is Izuku, isn’t it? Holy shit this is Izuku_ -denka _? Your eyes are focused on the kid in front of you as All Might addresses the reporter.

_ “-Daily. All Might, could you elaborate why? You both raise so much for relief efforts, surely you’d think what you could raise together?” _

The camera will show the women behind All Might muttering to the man with a pinched expression, but no words will be overheard as the wind picks up a little more.

** _“IT IS ONLY A DIFFERENCE IN IDEALS, HAHA! NOT EVERYONE GETS ALONG! WHO WANTS TO KNOW HOW I DEFEATED THAT VILLIAN, EH?”_ **

According to the instant clamour that rises up after that short question- hot, juicy gossip- no one’s going to let that go. Such a bad response begs the question. Your gaze has been fixed at the literal Faerie Prince this entire time, and you spot the flinch the Prince made as All Might spoke. Weren’t the Fae...particular about something? Integrity? No, something with words- _ wait a second. _

Mouth dry, you have to ask. You vaguely feel like you’re intruding on something _ big _ . 

“Did...did he just lie to everyone?”

There’s no explanation for the chill that goes down your back as he nods. You know that All Might is just a normal person- but _ the number one hero in Japan just lied on camera. _

_ All Might. Lies? Surely it’s just a little white lie. A silly argument? _

“He hates us.” Izuku-denka says softly, hand coming up to rub the pointed tip of his ear. “He hates me too, I think. I want to be a hero anyways, I just want to help, you know?”

“All Might can’t hate you, he only hates villains…” You speak without really processing. They’re infamous for not being able to lie. Kid just said that All Might _ hates _his family. “Wait.”

“Yes.”

“He thinks that you’re all…you know, villians?”

“_ Yes.” _

“Well.” You almost swallow the words, but between supporting a kid who’s got the number one hero against him, and the number one hero actually hating a kid…

Well, you’re from Mustafu first, before Japan. 

“Adults can make mistakes, too.”

The kid gives you a wobbly little smile, and you would swear on your Uncle’s grave you just heard a bell chime.

* * *

Now that Izuku feels a little better from charming another person, he leaves the stranger and wades deeper into the crowd, gingerly using the barest amount of magic to not draw any _ more _ attention to himself. The Zephyrs giggle at the ruckus, whispering to each other in pitches too high for him to make any sense of. All Might’s PR aide takes the podium for a few minutes, speaking spun-glass fragile words of assurance and politics. Idly, he wonders if the rain now sprinkling down is smudging her makeup. Rain, after all, was _ not _in today’s weather report. Izuku fights the cheeky grin that threatens to bloom at the sight of speech cards on the surface of the wood podium. The hero saved the day, don’t focus on this rotten foundation. The hero saved the day, this is Japan, smile and nod and all will be well. 

The thought is so bitter it’s as if Izuku bit into wormwood.

_ I can see the pulse in your neck jump from thirty paces. We’d eat you alive. _

The Zephyr of North-Northeast cackles at the face he pulls. “Oh _ leanbh, _ you are certainly your mother’s, _ heh heh.” _

“Aw, ‘Nor, don’t tease the _ prionsa _ . _ Tá mé fiosrach anois.” _

“Ladies, I _ can _understand you.”

He makes sure to lower his eyes as All Might sweeps his own through the crowd. A pulse of nervousness threatens to bubble up as he takes a reality check. Holy shit, what would even happen _ if _ All Might spotted him anyways? Would he stop the press conference? Call security? _ No, no, no _\- that would give Izuku ammo to fire back. Fae or not, he’s still a child- nevermind his aspirations to be a hero. There’s no way to make that palatable to the humans. A little part of his brain is screaming to just go home, what the fuck is he trying to accomplish? Fumi is going to kill him, Momo is going to ignore him until he grovels at her feet-as he should, women remain unknowable in his opinion- Toshi will keel over from laughing and Rhys…

...Rhys might…

Oh Danu _ bless _ it, Mom isn’t going to let him hide behind her, might as well say goodbye to _ any and all _ plans for weekends. Oh, and he had _ promised _Rhys that he’d make his splash into the media memorable.

He isn’t even going to think about what _ Mathair _is going to do to him. 

_ Hhhhhhhhhhhhh. _

_ Okay, _ ** _[REDACTED], _ ** _ think! We have a news crew-check. We know the audience can be convinced-double checked. Everyone here knows I can’t lie- and that I can tell when someone does. No one knows what I can do besides that. As long as I don't incite a riot for any reason, the worst bet is that I get driven home by the police. _

_ What can I go after? All Might is going to wrap this up in a bit, but he always stays after at least 5 minutes to talk to kids. The news always shows a clip of the hero making kids like me smile- _ ** _think think think th-_ **

_ Okay, okay. I’ve got this. _

And it happens exactly how he thought it would. A little like clockwork, really. Izuku mentally notes that even if someone got the drop on All Might, the hero’s fastest speed was a little under Mach 2 as of six years ago. Could All Might be as strong as Mom? Impossible. Actually fucking_ impossible _. What was Mach 2 in the face of Faerie? Was that why she was so bitter towards him? But that man- that man that he barely remembers- that Auntie Pris healed, they were on okay terms. 

Lost in these thoughts, he doesn’t track All Might ending his press conference and almost gets swept up in the crowd surging towards the hero. He panics for a moment, desperately trying to stop any stray magic from latching onto anyone as they push past him. _ Sweat is disgusting, did someone just cough on his hair? Oh, gross. _ Out of the corner of his vision he sees Taikada grinning at him, camera sitting on his hip with expectant bronze eyes.

‘_ Go!’ _He barely hears the human in the cacophony. He gives the man a mischievous grin and starts following the crowd to All Might, slipping under elbows with just a touch of speed, his voice saccharine sweet as he apologizes for bumping into people.

Just a few meters in front of him is the biggest thorn in his Court’s side. 

* * *

Toshinori Yagi was having a decent day. Just a normal, ordinary day. A villain was behind bars, he had enough time left to attend his own press conference, and now he was signing autographs for little children. Days like this were meant to be lived for- nothing stressful, nothing earth-shattering. His nemesis was 7 years dead, and he’d been in talks with Nezu about teaching at Yuuei for a week now. The smile was a little easier to wear today.

He really should’ve expected this to happen. The first sign had been easily ignored- of _ course _he felt watched, he was being recorded! He had heard a few of the camera crew mention that fairy child, but when he looked he didn’t see the boy. 

The second sign had been odd. He’d make eye contact with an androgenous young adult, and had been privately baffled at the look they’d given him. They’d held his eyes for an uncomfortable few seconds before looking behind them. 

Mistrust. Suspicion. Wary. 

Now, those two occurences did not a pattern make- that he knew at least.

But he’d paid it no mind, seeing as things were wrapping up. That rain sure came out of thin air though. Maybe he’d take advantage and spend his night on the phone with David, seeing as Naomasa was always busy at his precinct.

_ Or maybe he was always busy with those bastards. Were they blackmailing him? Nao was a good man, he wouldn’t cozy up to such obviously corrupt people. Gwyn, he mentioned a Gwyn all those years ago. Were they dating now? _

The third sign was the sight of a singular teen, half hidden by the crowd clamoring for him to sign shirts and hats, forest green hair with eyes that shone like emeralds. One for All let him take a split-second to spot gold flecks in them, and when he blinked the child was barely a meter away from him.

To him, the child looked like a monster wearing human skin. The angles of the kid’s face were all wrong. None of the Fae looked Asian, but-

Glamour. That’s right- the bastards wore magic like clothes. 

“Heh-hello, All Might.” The child speaks, giving him a close-lipped smile before stuttering at him. “Can I become a h-hero like, like you?”

And that’s when his ears started to ring.

* * *

  
  


_ Holy shit _

_ Holy shit _

_ Don’t pass out, human. That’d make me look bad. _

“Mr. All M-Might.” Izuku takes a step closer, hand going to his messenger bag to pull out a notebook. The crowd is confused at the bloodless, but still smiling face of their beloved hero. The murmurs in the crowd swell a bit, snippets of conversation floating above the dull roar in his veins. He catches his and his mother’s name, but ignores it as he steps forward. “I-I know that you a-and mom have, um, differ-differences b-but I want to be-e a hero, li-like you!”

_ Oh sweet Danu, don’t fuck this up. _

_ You’re damned if you say I can, you’re doubly damned if you don’t. _

As he offers his notebook towards the man- that hollow smile with teeth bared make his senses blare in warning. _ Protect the neck, protect the chest, back the fuck up are you _ ** _insane?_ ** _ Where is your bodyguard? Why are you so far away from the Court? Grab the pen, aim for the eyes. Book it, melt into the shadows. You’re not immortal until you turn 18, you’re vulnerable, you’re _ ** _weak-_ **

When he hears a human coo at him and places a hand on his shoulder, Izuku realizes he’s trembling. The notebook shakes in his hand as he holds it out. The Zephyrs clutch his hair so tightly it stings for they too are on edge. It takes an uncomfortable few moments for the hero to respond, a muscle ticking on the side of his temple.

The man snatches it out of his hand suddenly, too fast for Izuku to track. 

**“Young...man.” ** Izuku cranes his head up, twisting his face to look hopeful despite the steady rain that falls on his face. A beat where he can practically _ smell _ the man searching for words- indecision smells like fog, the water falling down making to cloying thick, it rolls off the human in _ waves _\- 

“I wa-want to be a hero! I’m-I’m the only one t-that in the family eli-eligible ‘-cause of th-the age restriction law. I-I **just want to save people!**” Izuku blurts out on live, national media. 

_ Oops. _

His companions almost fall out of his little sphere of glamour laughing.

Well, he threw _ restriction _ there because it was a wee bit more dramatic than _ limit _. Meh, close enough. And it’s true- he wants to save people. 

If he had said ‘limit’- that word is quite a reasonable word to say. You have a limit on how young you can be to get a driver’s permit, laws have limits. But the word ‘restriction’ sounds a lot like ‘restricted’ in bold red letters. The sign on a door that forbids opening it, R-rated movies, it’s a spicy word that demands a response. Why is there a restriction? The only thing that makes Izuku’s family different is that they’re Fae. Doesn’t it beg the question? 

Besides, the damage has already been done. 

The hero takes a breath as he finishes signing his notebook, the crowd quiets down to hear.

**“You should look into other ways you can help people.”**

He hands the notebook back to the teenager. The moment is broken, the crowd rushes forward again.

Time blurs a little around Izuku, after that. Now it’s his ears that are ringing. 

* * *

  
  


Izuku let himself be ushered away from the confused crowd by Taikada. He’s not dissociating- but. He. Doesn’t get it? That’s it? _That’s it?_ **_That’s all he had to say? _**

** _Th̶a̵t̴'̸s̴ ̷a̶l̸l̴ ̷h̸e̷ ̵h̷a̵d̴ ̸t̸o̴ ̷s̵a̴y̶ ̴t̷o̶ ̸h̷i̵m̵?̵_ **

_ “[REDACTED], are you alright? Little Prionsa, you did fine. Please calm down.” _The high pitch of the wind sprite cuts through his oddly unfocused mind.

Calm

Down?

Is that what he’s feeling? 

“What am I feeling?” He mutters to himself. Belatedly, he almost misses the pale, worried look on the human in front of him. Part of him feels bad for Taikada. He wait for his ears to stop ringing so fucking much, watching the human’s mouth form words he forgets the meaning of.

He steps to the side, feeling a shoe slide off. That feels a little better- a little bit grounding. The hum of the subway under his foot, the asphalt embedded with minerals that sparkle in the now-clear sky.

Izuku feels his phone buzzing like a swarm of hornets. Numbly, he ignores the questions being fired at him and fishes it out. 

_ 32 Missed Calls _

_ 5 Voicemails _

_ 1 Text from: IWantToSeeMyLittleBoy _

_ 7 Texts from: Cat-Man _

_ 13 Texts from Groupchat: Hey, You’re Finally Awake _

_ 1 Text from: Tenyaaaaaa _

He feels a sprite leave his Glamour to talk to the human, ignoring the yelp Taikada gives out. He thumbs over the missed calls first. None from Rhys or Pris, but several from Ewen and Aelfdene asking after his health. How long has he been standing here? Does it matter? He’s _ fine. _Izuku doesn’t touch the groupchat. He clicks on the message from his whisy-washy friend, fully aware of his spine going cold in apprehension.

_ From: Tenyaaaaaa _

_ My parents watched the livestream, Izuku-kun. They have decided that you are a bad influence. Nii-san agreed. I’ll be there tomorrow to pick up my overnight clothes and anything I left there. _

_ I am truly sorry. I hope to see you at Yuuei next year. _

  
  


** _T̵̫̼̱̜͓̻̼̒̌Ḩ̴̤̺͙͍͖̾̽͌̃A̵̧̎̋̄͛Ṯ̶̢͕͍̘̌̆̂̂̈̓͜'̶̢̩͘S̷̜̭̤̆ ̶̰̰̹̯͍̐͒̆̓͑Ą̷͎̑̿̌̉̈͝͠L̷̗̇L̴̝̆̔̌ ̷̹̱͎̟͍͌̏͒͜H̴̨̢̩̯͎̞̋ͅE̷͖̣̦̗͍͖͋̔̔ͅ ̷̺̱͌̋̆̓̈́̕ͅͅH̷̞̜̰̜̫͇̎̀̀͂͊A̸̪̜̩̥͓͋D̸͓͒̈́́͒̓̕ ̸͓̥̣̑̐͘ͅT̷͈͓͝Ơ̷͈͆͊͝ ̸̘̘̪͚̫͎͂̐̈S̸͚̩̘̞̕À̷̜̳͔̀͛̈͝͝Ȳ̴̼̰̪͖̞̥͚̂ ̵̹͇̈́̓̐̑̈͊͝T̵̼͔͈̮͋͒͑̈́͒O̷̥̫̰̭̯̺͌̾̔͐̽̕͘ ̶͔͔̭̓͗H̶̱̣̤̝̬͇̏̈I̴̳͔̺͇͓͚͇͐̂̏̓͝M̴̘̯̼͔̤͛͋̈̆̅͘?̵͚̤̪̦̱̩͌́̇͜?̶̟̖͚͈̫͎̩̑̇͘̕?̴͛̊͜_ **

  
  


** _ĝ̵̼u̴̘̇ê̸̺s̷͍̍s̷̥͂ ̵̻̀ẅ̴̡ḛ̷̑ ̸̭͒ẉ̶͋ȅ̸̟r̴̟͂e̸̜͋ ̵̺̂ṉ̵̿ê̵͉v̷͓͘e̷̥͘r̵̙̊ ̷̭̿r̷̽͜e̵̛̪ȧ̷̳l̵͙̏ḽ̶y̶̠̓ ̶̤͠f̴̫̈́r̷̠͛i̴͔͝e̴̪̾n̵̖̑d̶͖͋s̶̼̎_ **

  
  


“-do, calm down!!!” Taikada’s voice is pitched low, his hand on the Princes’ shoulder. Why does everyone go for the shoulder?

When he looks down, he notes that the tree half a meter away from him bears yellow leaves. The hand that holds his phone shimmers faintly, like someone poured fine glitter into his skin.

Oh. It’s summer. The tree shouldn’t look like that, should it.

“I think.” Izuku fights to control his voice. “I think that I’m really, _ really _angry at humanity today.”

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zalgo text:  
"Little baby Fae, Go make some waves, maybe you can stay, and show them what you crave"  
"That's all he had to say to him?"  
"THAT'S ALL HE HAD TO SAY TO HIM?  
guess we were never really friends"
> 
> Translations:  
Prionsa- Prince  
Tá mé fiosrach anois- I'm curious now/Now I'm curious


	12. Various Tipping Points

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Featuring:
> 
> Have A Little World-Building, As A Treat
> 
> Green Hair, Don't Fucking Care Anymore
> 
> Eraserhead's Intro(Wrong Time, Wrong Place)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the 2-month delay. I've been in Phoenix, Arizona, protesting. Yes, it got a little too wild for a minute. I'm physically alright, and I hope you all are doing the best you can within your powers to support Black Lives Matter.

Isadora, for the majority of the day after, has been holed up in her office. A pile of shredded pictures lie in front of her, furious eyes silently watching Tweeter imitate the Ouroboros. The silence from her official handle as the days tick by has the internet bracing for _ something, anything. _The public isn’t split evenly, but she can see the divide growing, as the unprofessional conduct given by All Might is broken down. In this case, bystander indecision isn’t the worst response to...event. Rhys sits on the other side of the room, nervous eyes watching his Queen’s face. He watches the micro-expressions, observes and hears her pulse tick up for a few seconds, before smoothing out again. A twitch in her temple, a knuckle going bloodless white as it presses against her faintly glowing skin. Her eyes shift between blue and green, as her Glamour slips here and there. 

Isadora is going to murder All Might. It _ had _ been an assumption before yesterday. Like a grocery list, almost. Delegate with the UK sub-Court, tell Priscillia to check her stores, _ savagely rip into All Might until he begs for a quick end, _ and ask how Izuku’s day was. Now? Now it’s _ certain_. That disgusting _ piece of shit_. Isadora was going to _ rip that man to shreds, eat that corrupted heart of his, and use him for _ ** _mulch. _ **

He’d lied to their face, to the media, to the _ world. _

He’d directly insulted the Prince. In that disinterested, off-hand way. Perhaps he’d been aware of his micro-expressions screaming his true opinion to the world. If he _ hadn’t _been aware how it would look to the outsider, that was folly on his end. The human had such a large proportion of his life under the eye of the camera, he should've played the gods-damned game that was expected of him. Surely the Number One Hero had an inkling of awareness of the idolatry that was aimed at him. It was the cold look in the man’s eyes visible on camera, the way he’d turned his back on her son like he was dirt under his shoe. The stilted conversation, the slight quirk use. 

That multi-quirked man _ came into contact with her son. _ Of course she knew of One for All. The mirror injuries Midoriya Hisashi had, the reason why that man had so inelegantly approached her. Danu bless it, she’d been in this country long enough to see the pattern from miles away. A no-name hero rising from nowhere, only to disappear in less than a decade _ at best. _A transferable ability. The next hero takes the mantle, saves a few lives, then repeats the process. All Might’s mentor- that women couldn't have possibly had two unrelated Quirks. Isadora had to give some respect to the fool, though. He certainly harnessed the wild power of that strange quirk. What was it, only six years ago the man had to start slowing down? 

Isadora had a feeling his position of Number One Hero had influenced others into backing away from the Fae, after his less-than stellar response. Monkey see, Monkey do- to aptly put it. Tenya’s older brother and parents were medium-rank heroes, well within the Top 100 but unlikely to ever eclipse Top 50. They probably pulled Tenya out of her son’s circle to escape any criticism that might follow them, likely because they feared for their rankings falling-their income and career. 

The corruption that went so bone-deep in the Hero Commission wasn’t even pretty to look at. 

Which, well, wasn’t it just incredibly _ stupid _of them to pull their child away from his only friends in the middle of the school year- from a parenting standpoint. And at this little incident, anyways? The Iida family showed their lack of cards too soon. They’d most likely regroup in UA anyways, if Tenya was smart. If the child wasn’t...well, sometimes that happened. She’d have to remind Izuku to keep an eye on that at UA.

But perhaps the most worrying thing was the event that didn’t make it on camera. Bless that human. No, the worrying part was that her child has shown a new side of his magic. 

Normally- as normally as any of the Tuatha Dé Danann could mature- Izuku would have one main magic until he turned 16. Usually, it was either an environmental magic like her freshwater affinity or an element, or a seasonal magic like Priscillia’s. The magical _ core _ of a child isn’t designed to handle another channeling path- too small and too unrefined. Right now her little treasure experimented with Glamour and undefined magics- absolutely a wonderful way for him to explore his growing capabilities. As his body started learning how to pull magic directly _ into _ his core instead of absorbing it through Faerie air and food, he would start finding out new schools that aligned with him, eventually coming to a solid 5-6 main talents. Additionally, he’d be able to spend less and less time outside Faerie. For now the Court worked since she’d tethered it a short while before he was born. That’s when he’d sign up for classes at the College in Faerie- that hosted teachers for all types of magic. She herself had been a teacher for a few centuries, of course. Shapeshifting had been a pleasure to teach. 

This report of Izuku sucking the _ vitality _ out of an organic object could be many things. Unfortunately, literally any option was a _ Big Magic. _The sorts of Magics he truly needed guidance on.

Life.

Death. 

Danu forbid, _ Time. _

She needed to find out what exactly her sapling did and _ find him a tutor before he killed someone on accident. _

* * *

  
  


“Why do you want to be a hero, Fumi?”

The question comes out of nowhere. They’re in Izuku’s room, Fumikage’s hands cupped around his dear friends’ face. They’d been simply relaxing when Izuku had turned to him and locked eyes. It’s been about half an hour of the world’s most unnerving stare. Fumikage ignores his heart squeezing and Dark Shadow’s internal snide comments while his corvid face sits hardly a few inches from the others’ face. The fae had said something about windows and souls, a strange kick Izuku’s been on since yesterday. To stare into the eyes of another, unblinking. 

It’s only a day after ‘The Incident’- as Isadora had dubbed it with a furious, toothy smile. Fumikage stares into his best friend’s eyes and forces himself not to blink as he thinks, distracted from the effort of not falling into them. The Truth is tugging at his throat to be let free, as it always does when asked a direct question from the Fae. Izuku knows that staring into the eyes of a human is different from his brethren. In the eyes of the Fae, one could squint past the iris and peer into raw magic. It’s a show of trust, of intimacy between young loves. 

Izuku will keep that last bit from his dear friend, for now.

Why does Fumikage want to be a hero? Of course, he wants to save people. But now, he knows that not only that he can never be the next All Might- _ why would anyone want to be that asshole? _ He’s always had a friend in Izuku, in the Court. They were each other’s only friends for so long, wouldn’t it be normal to feel so at home in his best friends’ home, especially when his own wasn’t? They took him in without nary a glance at his mutation, at the red star on his file next to his Quirk’s name. Not a single question about Dark Shadow until he opened up first. Hitoshi and Momo always have his back, from Hitoshi’s wry commentary and commiseration to Momo’s pragmatism and elegance. Satellite acquaintances at first, slowly morphing into steadfast connections as Izuku pulled them together with warm smiles, and the Court’s irenic nature towards children. Thank goodness Tenya and him were never quite close, in retrospect. His mom doesn’t hurt for money anymore, and she’s been slowly getting her mental issues under control- both due to Isadora’s meddling hand. He’s not hurt by the comments the bullies at their school make about Dark Shadow, not when there’s always a gentle hand on his shoulder and a kind word waiting to be heard.

(The last bully to call him a villain had left the next day, and no other students had commented on it. It was like the child never existed in the first place.

They had gone to a reptile museum that day, and he had never gotten the image of the two green-haired Fae smiling indulgently at the snakes out of his mind.)

Could he ever even think about leaving Izuku’s side? Dark Shadow roars **_NO_** in his mind at the thought of it, the loss of this safest of havens. He himself doesn’t know anymore, that perhaps he’s fallen too deep into Izuku’s smile and normally unflappable nature. This place has become more of a home than _anything_ before, if he wishes to be honest with himself. The rules here are so different, there’s no hidden tension around anyone- save for movie nights where they roll dice to decide who choses. No light steps around the others, no hesitation, no slightly fearful looks cast in his direction. Most importantly, there’s not a single Quirk Suppressant in the house. He’s free to bring DS out to merely linger in the open air with him, at any time. It’s not only Izuku, but Isadora and Rhys, Hitoshi too. He’s fairly sure Priscillia is warming up to him. 

A little sure.

He’ll never say it to her face but Isadora is a literal _ faerie godmother, _ for better or worse _ . _ Ask and ye shall receive. If there’s any lesson he’s learned while being here it’s to watch what he says. Rhys understands him when he’s standing in the kitchen at midnight, all the lights turned on to drive his quirk back into his body after an intense nightmare. They simply... _ understand. _They understand living day-to-day with a one-way ticket to insanity burning a hole in your pocket, and that sometimes it’s the littlest things that keep him holding on when his thoughts turn morbid.

There’s things you don’t talk about in the middle of the night, like phantom impressions of hands that once belonged to black-suit officials fighting against the kiss Izuku had pressed onto his cheek one cloudy morning.

_ Ahem. _

So he stares into his best friend’s eyes and opens his mouth, letting the truth fly from his throat in a strange, if not hushed whisper. 

“I want to show them all that even the darkness can bring hope. I will show them the void.” He lets a shaky laugh out, The Truth still tugging at his throat. “Sometimes I think I’ll want them to feel off-kilter after I’ve saved them. They should be happy I’m on their side. Not all that is dark is evil and shunned. I feel _ alive _ by your side, dear friend. I could never repay your friendship, what your family has seeded in my soul.”

_ Finally, _ the subtle compulsion to answer fades before he can blabber on, and sags into the Prince.

The green he’s been staring into _ blooms _in response, like one of those children’s telescope toys with the multi-colored glass inside of it. Fumikage can feel his heart pick up and watch the blues that flare, and the gold that spins around the tiny black pupils. Izuku presses a close-mouthed kiss to the boy’s palm, keeping eye contact. He feels hands gently stroke the sides of where his cheeks would be.

“Like I would ever let you go, Fumi.” There’s that sharp, curved grin Fumikage likes to see. 

And that’s the end of_ that. _

* * *

  
  
  


Eraserhead was known as a creature of logic. A student versed in the maths of cold calculus and blessings of pragmatism, known in the Underground circuit as _ brutally efficient. _Not a man of many words, prone to irritability when not in adequate control of a situation. Never stayed with victims any longer than absolutely necessary, and kept strict boundaries with those he worked with. 

Aizawa Shouta, on the other hand, was only known by a few people. The man was not too separate from his other identity, as he believed personally that there should not be too much of a difference- the only reason you had a uniform at all was to separate you from a thug beating up other thugs. The human loved his pets equally, and had a supportive, if slightly annoying husband. He wasn’t ever able to grab more than a few hours of sleep every night, and his quirk wasn’t quite suited for his body. With Erasure, his eyes had only gone under the mutation to halt the activation of non-mutant quirks. Truthfully, the Quirk should’ve changed the nasolacrimal glands to produce more tears- or at least act in a way that sped production when his Quirk was in use. As he operated now, Shouta heavily courted a serious eye infection. It was bad enough when his allergies flared during the fall.

Ultimately, this meant that by the end of his shift he was an absolute disaster to deal with. Most of the police stations the hero frequented were well aware of his unique character, not taking it to heart when faced with his dead-eyed glare and messy hair. 

When the day came for him to report a crime to the Mustafu police, he didn’t think much of who he might have to interact with. It was a quarter past one in the morning, and he was rightfully exhausted. Aizawa’s eyes stung with every gritty blink, arms sore from pinning down the thief of the night. This one in particular had a praying mantis mutation, that in turn made his grip something to be worried about. In the end Shouta was able to walk away with little more than some minor lacerations, but damn if it didn’t annoy him. When the perp had crossed over into Mustafu district he’d become panicked, sloppy. With an odd amount of people- and really, it was kinda fucking weird how none of them seemed threatened by the thief- outside this late at night, Shouta had been able to chase the man into an alley. 

He enters the precinct without thinking of the rose bushes planted in pots at the staff door, only idly noting how fresh they appear. Since it’s so late only a few lights are on, and Shouta spots a green-haired woman as the only one in the bullpen. The soft rhythm of the keys clicking is the only noise besides the AC’s hum. Her movements look busy but calm, his guess that she’s looking to get home soon as well before the dawn shift walks in. Good. Maybe he’ll get home before three. 

“Post-Arrest forms are in the second cabinet, to the right, on the back wall.” The woman’s voice is hushed but not rude, like she’s trying to not disturb the quiet. “Third shelf down.” 

How...efficient. 

He grunts something that almost sounds like _ thank you _, and peels toward the back wall. Maybe it’s the hour of the night and the liminal space of an empty building, but Shouta is starting to feel a little unnerved. Hisashi would probably crack a joke he’s been listening to too many crime noir podcasts. The files are smooth, the handwriting is crisp and precise. He pulls an empty report out and starts filling it out at an empty desk. Name, ID number, date of incident, location of incident...

He hates to ask, but it’s such a pain to log into the computers here. He needs to cross-reference the criminal to any other incidents. Shouta looks up from the paper towards the woman, suddenly feeling a slight bit of trepidation. The LED light coming off the lamp on her table from his angle makes her look...not quite human, to be honest. Something about the jaw and cheekbone. The veins over the back of her hands- at least from what he can see- is some odd shade of yellow. 

Immediately, he silently reprimands himself. Subtle mutation Quirks still face discrimination, after all. This woman is obviously a professional, given the speed and focus of whatever she’s doing on her work computer. It’s the dead of night, and if _ he’s _ this tired, _ she’s _exhausted her- 

“What do you need, Hero?” Her voice cuts his thought process, and he tries to keep himself from jerking. “You smell like indecision, guilt, and exhaustion.” Her eyes flash as she tilts her head up to look at him properly, fingers still tapping away on the keyboard. He forces his eyes back down to the paper.

No use hiding from whatever strange Quirk this woman has. 

“Cross-reference Kamakiri Yosuke. He’s a thief.” Is what comes out of his mouth. He regrets it a little, but this is who he is at ass-o’clock in the morning. 

He hears the clicking of the keys stop. The silence drags on for a moment before he flicks his gaze back up. 

She’s staring at him with an emotionless face, but Shouta swears the lighting makes her look _ murderous _ for a moment. 

She grabs the bendy neck of the lamp to shine its light fully on her face. Shouta feels his breath stop as he watches something iridescent slither over her skin, smoothing the parts he just mentally commented on looking inhuman. As it passes, her face regains normalcy.

“Tsk. Use your manners, _ mortal. _” Shouta watches her mouth shape the words and they look like they should sound like a whisper, but they fill up the bullpen and he feels them, almost like feathers, against his rib cage. 

_ Oh, shit. _

_ Oh fuck he’s in the Mustafu Police Department. _

She tilts her head further into the direction of the light, so he can watch the ripple finish it’s path over her skin. 

_ This is one of the Fae and he’s all alone with one. _

“I am_ quite _ quickly becoming tired of rude humans. Fill out what your memory supplies, give me the form, and Go. _ Home. _ ** _Now_ **.”

And if he forgets exactly how he got home so fast- the alarm clock reads 1:56. Eraserhead doesn’t question it too much as he grips his husband tight before passing out. 

And that night, all he will dream of is running through the forest, not knowing if he should be worried about the sounds of horses behind him, accompanied occasionally with the sound of a horn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spin-off Idea:
> 
> Someone handing out a pamphlet named "Meeting a Fae: How to Survive"
> 
> Step One: Don't Be Rude  
Step Two: Don't say Thank You. Ever. 
> 
> :D


End file.
